Of Mortals and Dreams
by Falcon's Hyperdrive
Summary: 10 yrs ago, Sarah saved Toby from the Goblins. Now, though, she regrets her rejection of their King. Was Toby even in danger? No matter: Jareth is Toby's benefactor for his enrollment at Hogwarts & Sarah is the assistant librarian. With the goblins along, Hogwarts hasn't yet seen this level of chaos, and that's not mentioning the mayhem Jareth might bring when he is finally called.
1. Prologue

_Disclaimer . . ._I own neither _Labyrinth_ or _Harry Potter_, which belong to their respective copyright holders. Brief acknowledgments, I feel, are in order for **Mystical Magician**'s _Of Dreamers and Journeys_ and **PaisleyRose**'s _Beware of Goblin Gifts_, both of which I derived certain terms and ideas, such as the Persephone Canon and the inspiration for this story. However, I am not basing this story on either, and this is completely my idea.

If you see any mistakes (I am American, and _Harry Potter_ is set in England), feel free to tell me, so that I may correct them. Reviews will be most welcome, but I will not be offended by the Secret Readers (my term for readers who do not comment), partly because I am one of them. Further Author's Notes, explaining certain details, will be at the bottom of the chapters. With all this said, please enjoy the story. (Which is set ten years after _Labyrinth_ and in _HPOotP)

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_**Of Mortals and Dreams**_

**A Labyrinth/Harry Potter Crossover**

By Falcon's Hyperdrive

Begun 3-9-09

Finished _-_-_

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**Prologue – Hindsight of Dreams**

Sometimes, things were much clearer in dreams. Hindsight, they say. It was always easier understood than in the moment.

**..**

"_You're him, aren't you?"_

**..**

Yes . . . him. There was no way she could forget about him, no matter how hard she tried.

**..**

"_I've brought you a gift."_

_She stared at the ball at the tips of his fingers, mesmerized. "What is it?"_

"_It's a crystal. Nothing more. But if you turn it this way, and look into it, it will show you your dreams."_

**..**

What did he mean? She saw her dreams every night. He seemed to be an increasing factor in them as of late, but never mind that. There was a big difference between having your dreams shown to you and having them become reality. She hadn't quite realized it then, but she knew now. It was a good thing, then, that she refused the (_generous_) gift when it was offered.

**..**

"_Nothing? Nothing? Nothing, tra la la?"_

**..**

Why was she so stuck on that silly phrase? She would find herself muttering it to herself every now and then, and would immediately shut up and glance around worriedly, as if expecting someone (_him_) to step out of the shadows, a self-satisfied and victorious smirk on his (_handsome_) features. Then she would realize her own foolishness, and continue with what she was doing.

**..**

"_And you, Sarah. How are you enjoying my Labyrinth?"_

_She averted her gaze, slightly uncomfortable at his standing not three feet away, and not knowing why she felt suddenly shy, instead of merely fearful. "It's a piece of cake." Off to the side, Hoggle groaned, already predicting what was coming._

"_Really? Then how about upping the stakes, hmm?" He gestured with a leather-clad hand, and a clock appeared, the hour and minute hands spinning quickly around as he stole away the hours before settling back into its normal pace._

"_It's not fair!" she shouted, indignant and outraged. He was unfazed._

"_You say that so often. I wonder what your basis for comparison is." He moved a little further down the tunnel, and spread his hands, a crystal ball appearing in them. "So the Labyrinth's a piece of cake, is it? Well, let's see how you deal with this little slice."_

**..**

She often wondered why he set the Cleaners after her and Hoggle, but knew she had been pretty much asking for it. She had as good as challenged him.

That phrase . . . _A piece of cake . . ._ She didn't use it nearly so often anymore, the memories still fresh of the three times it had been said by her and Hoggle, and the disastrous consequences afterwards. First, falling into the Helping Hands, and then the oubliette. Next, three hours stolen away, and the cleaners. Then, finally, the goblin army.

_It's not fair . . ._ She never said that anymore, either, and she discouraged Toby from using it as well. She had learned her lesson long ago, in that twisting, dangerous maze. He had been right in asking what her basis for comparison was. For, after all, she had none, really.

Sometimes she wondered what might have happened if she had been too slow. Would she have died, or would that man (_Fae_) have made the Cleaners disappear before she came to harm?

And what did the peach mean?

**..**

_An enchanted ballroom . . . A white gown . . . A persistent hunt among mocking faces for _someone_. She spied him, and he was gone. Relentlessly, she searched, not knowing how close she came on several occasions. Then, suddenly, a fan moved aside, and he was there, ignoring the women on each side of him and looking straight at her. She watched, breathlessly, as he stepped forward and took her in his arms, leading her into the sweeping dance. He sang to her, and she felt as if he was all that mattered. His eyes were so intense, so peaceful, so . . . something. She couldn't place the emotion, even though she felt it herself. _

_Then the crowd was pressing in, and she began looking around frantically again. He was unperturbed, still crooning softly. Then the song ended, the crowd pressed closer, and the clock struck twelve. (_So much like Cinderella._) Tearing herself from his grasp, she struggled through the crowd, catching only a brief glimpse at the expression he bore._

**..**

Longing? Pain? Surprise? Maybe all of these, she decided (_hoped_). She would always regret leaving him like that, in some part of her heart. If it had been different circumstances (_no brother to rescue, for one, and no one watching so mockingly_) she might have stayed there in his arms, never mind having been drugged by that stupid peach. She was always afraid to touch peaches after that, though she knew it was irrational and unnecessary.

Maybe someday . . .

And then there was that song.

**..**

"_How you turned my world, you precious thing."_

**..**

Had she? Had he truly meant that, as he sang?

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"_You starve and near exhaust me."_

**..**

She had been awfully demanding, she realized now. He had probably been frustrated that she didn't realize what he felt for her.

**..**

"_Everything I've done, I've done for you."_

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She had asked that Toby be taken, and he took him. She asked to run the Labyrinth, and he let her. She challenged him in the tunnels, and he responded in kind. She searched for him in the ballroom, and he came and danced with her. All for her . . .

**..**

"_I move the stars for no one."_

**..**

She was truly privileged to have captured his attention, to have him do all that for her.

**..**

"_You've run so long,_

"_You've run so far."_

**..**

It really had been further than she thought, from the hilltop to the castle beyond the Goblin City. Though time had been shorter, also, than she thought, it had been a long ten hours.

**..**

"_Your eyes can be so cruel,_

_Just as I can be so cruel."_

**..**

She hadn't meant them to be. And yes, she found, he could be. Perhaps not entirely on purpose, but he could be . . . Why else would he plague her dreams all these years?

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"_Though I do believe in you,_

"_Yes I do."_

**..**

Did he really? If she hadn't been so focused on finding Toby, maybe she might have listened to his song, and paused at these words.

**..**

"_Live without the sunlight._

"_Love without your heartbeat._

"_I, I can't live within you."_

**..**

The last section sounded so pained, now that she was free to focus on it in her dreams, recalling that time. It was as if he knew what was coming, as she understood nothing of love for someone in that sense. Then again, maybe he did know, as he had doubtless heard her acting the story out many times in the park. Still, he tried one last time, though she thought at the time that it had been merely a ploy, an attempt to distract her from saying the words.

**..**

"_Give me the child."_

_He stood there, the feathery white cloak hanging about his shoulders and making him look even more like a ghost. "Sarah, beware. I have been generous, up until now, but I can be cruel."_

"_Generous!" In her non-understanding, she didn't realize how generous he truly had been. So she asked. "What have you done that's generous?"_

"_Everything!" he cried, circling her. "Everything you wanted, I have done. You asked that the child be taken, I took him. You cowered before me. I was frightening." The clock appeared again, its hands whirling, as he continued his circle, gesturing to it. "I've reordered time. I have turned the world _up_side-down. And I have done it all for _you_." He halted in front of her, looking down with weariness and . . . pain? She didn't know. When he spoke again, his voice was soft. "I am exhausted from living up to your expectations, milady. Now isn't that generous?"_

_It was, but she didn't understand, not at fifteen. Thinking it an attempt at a trick, she focused on the words she somehow knew would save Toby. But . . . was she really saving him? Was there a danger?_

"_Though dangers untold and hardships unnumbered, I have fought my way here to the castle beyond the Goblin City." She stepped forward, and he backed away. "For my will is as strong as yours, and my kingd-"_

"_Stop!" He cut her off, desperation leaking into his voice as he tried one more time to divert what he knew was coming. "Wait, Sarah . . . look. Look at what I'm offering. Your _dreams_." He held up another crystal, knowing it futile by the determined look on her beautiful features. _

_She continued, ignoring him. "And my kingdom as great . . ."_

"_I ask for so little," he interrupted, nearly begging. "Just let me rule you, and you can have everything that you want."_

_Her memory faltered. "My kingdom as great . . . Blast! I can never remember that line."_

_Taking advantage of the situation, he offered the crystal again. "Just fear me, love me, do as I say, and I will be your slave." There was a pleading look on his sharp features, but it was lost on her as her mind scrambled for the words. _

"_My kingdom as great . . . My kingdom as great . . ." Something clicked, and she looked up, realization dawning. "You have no power over me."_

_Resignation, sadness, despair, defeat, pain, acceptance . . . That one look was something she would remember forever. Up went the crystal as he tossed it, the clock striking thirteen. She had been just in time with her words._

_Down, down it fell, popping like a bubble as it touched her waiting, outstretched hand. There was a flurry of cloth, morphing into a great, white barn owl. She was back home . . . and then he was gone._


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One – Of Goblins and the Aftermath**

She awoke with a gasp, her heart lurching as the memory of his anguished face lingered. Sometimes, she wished (_no, never wish_) that she could go back and change what happened that day. But she had to save Toby, and she knew she could never trade him for anything. It was her selfishness that had sent him there, and while it had caused both her and the Fae king pain, she knew she had to undo her mistake.

_Maybe someday . . ._ Her mind repeated the musing from her dream, and she completed it. _Maybe we'll meet again._

At twenty-five, Sarah Williams had dated no less than three men – much to the agitation of the goblins – but had soon broken up with each of them – much to the little twerps' apparent relief. Her heart longed for the one who had sung to her, danced with her, and had made that one final attempt to persuade her to stay. Even so, in the ten years that had passed, though she met with Hoggle, Ludo, and Sir Didymus often, and had tried to subtly inquire about the health of the monarch – most often failing utterly at her attempt to conceal her interest – she did not call for him. One wish, she knew, and he could be before her, but she resisted. Over time, she realized that she feared him still. She feared what he might do in revenge for her breaking his heart. Besides, if she invited him to come back, what would happen to Toby?

Apart from all this, she wanted him to make the first move. If he still wanted her, he had to come. So, despite her pain in all of these ten years, and though she often almost gave in, she resisted.

She had changed, that day. No longer was she the spoiled, selfish brat that had foolishly wished away her baby half-brother to the goblins. Now, the boy was the brightest light in her life. She understood more of love, knew that she could possibly love the king she had so eagerly cast as a villain before.

No longer, also, did she think of Irene as the evil stepmother from a fairy tale – or she tried not to, anyway. She would never come to think of her as her mother, but she had accepted the woman's place in her family as her father Robert's wife.

When schooling brought her half across the world to England, Sarah had decided to stay there. When she graduated from college, her younger brother, having not wanted to be parted from her in the first place, begged to be allowed to stay with her.

Sarah was willing, her parents not so much. Finally, though, it had been agreed: Toby would live with Sarah, she would be his legal guardian, and she would pay for his schooling, with a little aid from the parents. Basically, she would be the mother she always had been to him, ever since that stormy night long ago . . .

It was a good thing he liked the goblins. After she won Toby back from the Goblin King, his subjects would visit her often. Goblins ran amuck through her house, always hiding when visitors came – which were few – and always making sure their messes and pranks weren't too much. One of the more subdued ones was even a permanent fixture of her house, helping her with the chores. She would ask them about their king, every now and then, and they would answer, telling her what sort of depressed or reflective mood he was in today. Hoggle hadn't seen much of him, and the dwarf was content with that. Sir Didymus had been given a post as the city gate's guard, and Ludo often visited his adopted brother there, and his friend at the gate to the Labyrinth. All three had been pardoned for their disobedience of the king's orders, and their parts in the mess made of the city. Ludo, too, had been very helpful, Didymus told her, in the cleaning up of the rocks he had called. As for the king . . .

Sarah closed her eyes, sighing as she ended her contemplation. It did no good to think of this, and besides, it was nearly time for her alarm to go off, signaling that she needed to get herself out of bed.

She rose before the obnoxious sound could begin, and flicked the alarm off. This was one of the things she had adamantly deemed off-limits to the goblins, and surprisingly enough, they obeyed. Their insistence on calling her "Lady Sarah" did unnerve her at times, but she had grown used to it.

Speaking of goblins . . .

Skeeter, a bony thing half her height, pranced his way into her bedroom as he heard the sound of "the lady" getting up. A pair of Toby's shorts from when he was younger covered the cheerful goblin's lower half with a vibrant green, and an old Mickey Mouse shirt did the job for his torso. He wore an ear-to-ear grin befitting of his kind, but no mischief was planned by him for today. No, he was simply happy because Toby had given him chocolate. While goblins and sugar might usually make a very disastrous combination, indeed, Skeeter knew how to handle himself. Even so, Sarah took one look at him and grimaced.

"Toby gave you a Hershey's bar again, didn't he?"

"Yep!" Skeeter chirped, bounding over to help her make her bed. She let him, with no small amount of amusement at his eagerness. "You're just a little bundle of energy, now, huh?" she mused, grinning. "Did Toby give you the candy last night, or is he up already?"

"Master's up! Hungry . . ." Skeeter made a growling noise, mimicking a rumbling stomach as he rubbed his belly through the bright purple shirt. Sarah laughed at the funny creature, patting his greenish-gray human-like head gently. "I'll get breakfast ready, then. Would you like anything, or have you already eaten?"

"Food!" he cheered, following her quickly, an excited light in his green eyes. "Hungry . . ."

"Right, then. Come along."

Skeeter followed the woman downstairs, his mouth watering at the very thought of eating some good food. When they came to the kitchen, Sarah immediately went to the fridge. "You don't mind eating chicken eggs, do you?" she asked, remembering the fowl she had seen Underground ten years prior. Skeeter shook his head, happily bouncing where he stood. "Goblins eat chicken!" he announced, enlightening her on this subject. "Pets, but food, too."

"Oh, good," said the woman as she pulled out a carton of eggs. This was the first time she had made this meal for breakfast while the little goblin was around. "I'm glad I'm not offending you in any way, then."

"Lady need Skeeter?"

"No, you can go join Toby, wherever he is. Probably in the living room watching cartoons. You two will be okay today, right? I have an interview for a job at one, and I was thinking of walking around for a few minutes afterwards before coming back here. I stopped at a bookstore last time I was downtown, and I wanted to check it out again, and see if that book Toby wanted was in."

"Skeeter and Master be fine," the goblin assured her. "Breakfast!"

She laughed again as she found the skillet she had been searching for, and made a shooing motion with her free hand. "All right, all right. Off with you, then."

He pranced away obediently, leaving her to her cooking. She watched him go with a smile, remembering the first time she met the rambunctious creature. He had stumbled out of her mirror, following her three friends, and had promptly declared himself her helper, and that of Toby. When asked what he meant, he waded hodgepodge through his words until he came across "servant," with Didymus's help. (Being an excellent Scrabble player, he of course knew the synonyms to many words.)

Sarah had valiantly protested the plan, but knew immediately by Skeeter's determination that it was useless, and so they had a third member of the household from that day henceforth. Two years had passed since that day, him coming and going as he pleased at mealtimes for the beginning months, and try as she might, she never could wrangle out of Skeeter what had caused him to come to her in the first place. They had also tried to get him to call them by their names, but Skeeter insisted on calling Sarah "Lady" and Toby "Master." Why, he never told them, and they figured it had something to do with his being their supposedly self-assigned servant.

The smell of the fried eggs soon brought goblin and boy to the kitchen, where Sarah was just sliding the finished products onto plates, accompanied by toast. "Good morning, Toby," she greeted her brother as he followed his nose to the counter.

"Morning," he returned distractedly, eyeing the breakfast. She ruffled his blonde hair (_It's becoming so much like _his_ hair . . ._) and let him take a plate. "Go on, then," she urged Skeeter. "Eat up, both of you, before it gets cold and that band of troublemakers comes back. Ziggy, Squeak, and Pretzel were planning on coming over, last I heard from Bluey."

Bluey was a rotund, older, slightly hunchbacked goblin, and one of the maternal figures in the castle. She visited occasionally with her three mischievous sons, and was Sarah's most reliable source of information from the Underground apart from Hoggle, Ludo, and Sir Didymus. She always told Sarah about the king's mood, and the goblins' most recent antics. Sarah recorded these stories, and had published several volumes of tales about her friends. This provided a steady enough income, but there were times Sarah needed a little more money, and that was why she had an interview that afternoon.

Skeeter obviously tried not to be a pig, but hunger and a new sense of urgency from the news caused him to nearly shovel the food into his mouth. "Food good!" he praised upon finishing. "Skeeter help clean?"

"Thanks," she said, agreeing as she ate her own breakfast more slowly. "Toby, be sure to not let the triplets into the sugary stuff."

"Oh, yeah . . . You have that interview, don't you?"

"Yup," she confirmed, brushing some of her brown hair out of her face. It was longer than it had been ten years ago, and had a slight wave to it, giving it a fullness that made her look more mature – as if her filled in form didn't do that already. Her eyes were still green, but she had noticed that the once-jade irises were now closer to emerald. Toby's eyes . . . Well, Bluey had once said that the king commented that Toby had his eyes, and Sarah saw that he had been right. He kept one baby blue eye – his right one, like the king – but the other one's pupil had enlarged slightly, making it look darker. It was, needless to say, rather eerie for Sarah, and she found herself shivering every now and then. Most of the time, it just made her miss the king more.

_Jareth . . ._ She dared only think the name, fearing the consequences of speaking it aloud. And, oh, how she missed him . . .

"May you stop at the bookstore for me?" Toby asked, interrupting her thoughts. "They called yesterday while you were gone, saying that book I wanted was in."

"Oh, sure." She reached over and ruffled the boy's hair again, then promptly smoothed it down when it looked too much like the Goblin King's. There were noted differences between their looks, but the hair and eyes were enough to make them look so similar. "You wanted that mythology book, didn't you? The one with Persephone and Hades?"

"Uh-huh. Squint recommended it."

"Squint's a goblin. What does he know about human books?"

"Well, he did live in a bookstore for a while. Say, do you know that story?"

"No, but I will soon. Now, I have to leave at twelve-thirty, so we have a couple hours before I need to get ready. Scrabble, anyone?"

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**Author's Note #1**

_On Sarah's stepmother . . . _There have been two names for this woman, who went untitled in both the movie and the book, where the father's name was revealed to be Robert. Fans, Wikipedia says, have dubbed her Karen, and while I like this better than the other name, I use Irene, the canonical name first used in the manga sequel.


	3. Chapter 2

Thank you for reviewing, **notwritten**! 'Tis very encouraging. **;-)**

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**Chapter Two – Of Leaky Cauldrons and the Persephone Canon**

Sarah sighed as she left the place where she had been interviewed, grateful to have that over and done with. Some part of her hoped that they turned her application down, but she needed the money. And if being a waitress brought that in, then so be it.

It was a beautiful day, for once, and she loved the fact that the sky was clear, the temperature mild. _Perfect weather,_ she thought, smiling to herself. It was a good thing she had decided to take a walk today.

The bookstore was nestled between a pub and an antique store. It was the pub that drew her eye first, though it had gone largely unnoticed by her the last time, as the strangest people were coming to and from it. Some looked normal enough, she supposed, except for the minute differences in their clothes. One wore . . .

_Are those galoshes?_ she thought to herself, stifling a laugh. Another person had mismatched clothes, as if he didn't know how to wear them. Curious now, she approached the pub.

The sign read _The Leaky Cauldron_, as if its clientele weren't strange enough. Most people passed right on by the place, as if they didn't even see it. Their eyes went from the records store on one side, to the bookstore that had been her original destination. Not only that, but the place felt . . . magical, for lack of a better term. Or maybe it was the right word, she reflected as she stepped inside to take a quick look, something she had decided against the last time she passed through.

There was a long bar on one end of the room, and a door that led to a dining room. A set of stairs led to guest rooms above the pub, and various small tables littered the front room. A few people glanced at her as she entered, but otherwise ignored her as she came further in, though she could tell that some were keeping an eye on her.

The clothes of the guests here were strange, though she supposed hers might be odd to them. Most everyone wore robes, though some looked a bit like trench coats. A couple of the clientele held small sticks of wood, and if she didn't know better, she might have called them wands.

Motion on the wall caught her eye, and she turned to see a poster advertising a match of some sport called Quidditch, where . . . wizards . . . and witches . . . rode broomsticks . . .

As if that wasn't enough to throw her mind for a loop, the picture was _moving_, and stopped and replayed like a video set on a cycle. Broomstick riders swooped over the crowd and dove toward the pitch like birds playing some sort of tag. A ball was thrown through a set of rings on one end of the field, while it looked like two slightly smaller ones were being batted between four of the players.

_Toto, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore . . ._

She left the place as quickly as she could without drawing too much attention, and leaned against the storefront to catch her breath. The sticks in the guests' hands _were_ wands, and they _did_ wear robes, and the place _was_ magical. She, a non-magical Yankee, had just walked into a pub full of British witches and wizards!

She groaned, massaging her temples as she set herself straight again, walking into the bookstore next to the Leaky Cauldron. There was something she wanted to confirm . . .

"Hello, ma'am," she greeted the storekeeper as calmly as she could. "I'm sorry, but could you give me directions to the Leaky Cauldron? Someone I know said it serves good food, and since I was in town, I wanted to stop by."

"The Leaky Cauldron?" The storekeeper smiled at her. "Sorry, miss, but I haven't ever heard of it. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

_So no one but witches and wizards – with exceptions, clearly – can see the place . . ._ Sarah dismissed the thought, leaving it for later to contemplate. "Actually, yes," she answered. "My brother, Tobias Williams, said you called him yesterday, saying a book he wanted was in."

"Ah, yes, that one . . ." The storekeeper bent down behind the counter, pulling out a nice-sized book on mythology. As she rang it up, the storekeeper gave it a glance. "Persephone and Hades . . . Ever hear that tale, Miss Williams?"

"No, ma'am."

"Ah, that's all right. I'll give you the gist of it right now, if you want."

"Please," Sarah urged. "I'd love to hear you tell it."

The old woman smiled, pleased. "Well, basically, it tells how Persephone, daughter of Zeus, was abducted by Hades and brought to the underworld, of which she became goddess. Life came to a standstill as Demeter, her mother and goddess of the Earth, searched everywhere for Persephone. Helios, the sun, saw everything, and told Demeter what had happened. Finally, Zeus forced Hades to return Persephone. Before he did, Hades tricked Persephone into eating pomegranate seeds, which forced her to return to the underworld for a season each year. Thus, the Greeks' origin story of the seasons, and the origin of what some call the Persephone Canon."

Sarah blinked as she absorbed that, the last term giving her pause. "The . . . Persephone Canon? What's that?"

"Basically, if a human were to eat fairy food, they would become a Changeling, some being allowed to return to their human families, and would belong to the fairy realm."

Sarah's blood ran cold.

_The peach . . . And Toby was a fussy baby, he would have wanted to eat . . . Jareth _must_ have fed him. Is this why Squint wanted Toby to read this? So he would know . . .?_ Sarah forced herself the remain calm, and smiled at the storekeeper. "Thank you, ma'am, for the book and the story. Farewell."

"Ah, goodbye, Miss Williams. Come again!"

She left, and ran home.

**...**

"Skeeter!" Sarah called, disturbed and distressed by her thoughts and this new information. The wizarding world was far from her mind as she considered her own destiny.

The goblin stuck his head out of the living room, and his grin disappeared at the ever-changing expression on Sarah's face. "Skeeter here," he reported, simultaneously concerned and nervous.

Sarah did her best to keep her cool, but it wasn't easy at the moment, with her mind in a jumble. "Is Bluey here?"

"Yep. Lady unwell?"

"I have no idea. Ask Bluey to come talk to me, please."

"'Kay. Bluey! Lady want to talk!"

The hunched-over mother of the troublemaking triplets soon came into the kitchen, where the exhausted woman had seated herself at the table. "Something distresses you?" Bluey asked, seeing Sarah's posture. Sarah looked up, and forced herself to think clearly. "Did your king feed Toby?"

Bluey stopped and stared at her for a moment. Finally, she nodded. "The Persephone Canon, is it? I see Squint did his job. Yes, Milady, our king fed young Tobias."

"Why? Surely he knew about the Persephone Canon. And – oooh! – he fed me, too!" She let her forehead fall to the table, the sharp pain breaking her out of her panic. Images of Jareth's pained expression as he let her go on two occasions while in the Underground filled her mind, and she realized exactly why he had fed them. "He never wanted to let us go."

"Milady is smart," Bluey observed, climbing into the chair across from hers. "But that's not entirely true."

"It isn't?"

"No. The king was planning all along to let young Tobias come back to the Aboveground, to live life as a mortal until he turned eighteen. He wanted you to stay, but he realized the truth . . . You were too young to keep yet, though he tried."

Sarah knew she resembled a fish, what with the way she was staring at Bluey, her mouth opening and closing as she tried to find words. "Because . . . I didn't understand. I knew nothing of love. I didn't know what he was saying, or why he was saying it."

Bluey positively beamed at her. "Milady is smart!" she repeated.

Sarah smiled, only a little surprised that she wasn't angry at Jareth for feeding them. It was as much her fault for eating the peach, though she didn't know about the Canon, and she didn't know it was drugged. No, she had long been over that. But there was something else . . .

"Bluey, why do all you goblins call Toby 'Master'? And why do you call me 'Lady,' or 'Milady'?"

Bluey coughed, suddenly looking everywhere but her. "Well . . ."

"Bluey."

At her warning tone, the goblin relented. "The king named young Tobias as his heir."

"He _what_?"

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**Author's Commentary #2**

_On the Leaky Cauldron . . . _In my initial idea and brief plot outline of the beginning steps, Sarah's visit to the wizard pub was inexistent. As I was writing, though, I realized that in order for her to have some idea of this other world, she had to see something of it. At first it was going to be just a visit to a bookstore, and finding out about the so-called Persephone Canon, but it was mentioned somewhere in someone else's story that one of the stores next to the Leaky Cauldron was a bookstore. While I am not sure if this was in _Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone_, it is a useful enough detail, so I used it. As to why she can take this discovery so calmly, she did freak out briefly, but she is somewhat used to the idea of other worlds, as the Underground and its Labyrinth are a common element in her life.


	4. Chapter 3

Accidentally deleted this chapter, so I don't remember what I said here. Anyway, thanks for the reviews, **LeannaPotter2.0** and **notwritten**!

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**Chapter Three – Of Kings and Crystals**

As if Sarah's head wasn't hurting enough before . . . To find out her brother was heir to the Goblin Kingdom was a little too much for her at the moment. Witches and wizards, broomsticks and moving photographs, pubs no one could see . . . And then finding out she was a Changeling, and her brother, too. While she wasn't angry at Jareth, shockingly enough, she . . .

. . . fainted.

She didn't know how long it was before she came to, smelling salts at her nose and goblins clustered all around her. Toby was watching her worriedly, and a terrier's face suddenly popping into view startled her to no end.

"Fair maiden! Art thou all right?" asked the gallant knight. Sarah yelped before she could stop herself. "Sir Didymus? Ow, my head . . . How long have I been unconscious?"

"About . . . ten minutes," Toby answered for her, briefly checking the clock. "What happened? Bluey said she was talking to you, and you suddenly passed out."

"It's been kinda building up ever since I went to the bookstore," she sighed, rubbing her temples as she spouted a stream of information. "I saw something that I probably shouldn't be able to see, found out you and I are Fae Changelings, and that you, apparently, are Prince of the Goblins."

Toby's open mouth remained so, as an information overload swept through his brain. "Huh?" was all he could say, looking rather like Sarah had when Bluey told her how the king knew she was too young, back then.

"Tobias Hezekiah Jarethkin Williams," Didymus elaborated, speaking the taboo word only as part of Toby's full name. Sarah never allowed it in her hearing, but she hardly noticed this time. "Prince of the Goblins and heir to the Goblin Throne."

"Wait, you knew?" Sarah accused, her mind snapping to attention. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Why, milady, because thou did not ask."

"And?"

"And, fair maiden, 'twas forbidden to tell thee of this unless thou asketh first. 'Tis in the rules."

Sarah's mind went back briefly to the Ruses and their mention of the 'rules,' then returned to the present. "Okay," she sighed, silently forgiving her friend. "You know, someday, I'll want to take a look at those rules. Find out what I can and can't do."

"But of course," answered Didymus. "If I shall ever find a written copy, thee shall be the first to know."

Toby shook his head, sitting down. "Okay, now _my_ brain hurts. I'm . . . a _prince_?"

"Aye, lad – er, my lord."

"Toby's fine," the boy corrected. "At least now I know why everyone's been calling me 'Master.'"

"There's that," Sarah agreed. "Didymus, would you like to stay for a game of Scrabble?"

The terrier perked up. "I shall fetch it for thee, milady. Sir Skeeter, if thou might get the table ready . . ."

Toby frowned at his sister, puzzled. "Scrabble again, and now?"

"Of course. Our most intelligent conversations happen over that board. And goodness, do we need the help . . ."

**...**

Jareth, King of the Goblins, stared into the depths of the crystal in his hands, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Sarah (_My Sarah . . ._) would of course be able to function like that after receiving such shocking news. Toby, too, was like none other, and was already recovering. Oh, but why didn't she _call_ him . . .?

Blast that stupid rule. If it weren't there, his subjects could come right out and tell her exactly why he hadn't been able to come to her. But no, she had to ask first, and while she often came close, she never did.

"How you turned my world, you precious thing," he whispered, nearly singing it. He wished he could hold the woman in his arms, but no. He had no power to grant his own wishes. Until she lifted the banishment that she didn't even know existed, then he had to be content with merely watching her from afar. Even then, this was only possible because she had said, "I need _all_ of you," ten years past.

As for Toby, he would be receiving a second surprise the following day, in relation to the world Sarah had unwittingly discovered. If she hadn't seen the Leaky Cauldron and its clientele of wizards and witches, she might have taken the news of Toby's being heir a bit more calmly, as her mind might not have been in so much chaos. But what's said is said, and what's done is done, as Jareth constantly told the Wishers.

A scuffling drew his attention to the door of the otherwise empty throne room, where the wrinkled and knobby face of his gatekeeper had appeared. "I don't like the idea of you being able to watch her like that," he grumbled, moving toward the throne where Jareth lounged, one leg over an arm of the chair. The Goblin King smiled, pleased that Sarah still only thought of Hoggle as a friend, and nothing more. It was the only reason why he hadn't made good on his threat to make the dwarf Prince of the Land of Stench.

"You get to visit her, Hogsbrain," he said, ignoring the muttered correction as to the name. "I don't. Therefore, you have the advantage there. So please, don't discourage the only consolation I have."

Hoggle snorted. "I hope you aren't doing anything perverted with that thing."

"Oh, no. I swear to you, Hig – Hoggle." The effort to actually be correct about the name clued the dwarf in that the king was being very serious. "I never look at her when she is in a state of undress. I have my honor, sir dwarf, and my morals intact."

"Whatever. What's she doing now?"

"She's playing Scrabble with Sir Didymus, Skeeter, and the young prince. I shall have to make a note to give Squint a free pass on the Bog. He actually remembered what story to point out to Toby."

"The boy knows, then?"

Jareth grinned at the humorous memory. "Sarah fainted. She told him why when she came to."

"She _fainted_? How come?"

"Information overload. Finding out there's a whole different world living right among you can shock even the best of them, and Sarah is one of the best of them. Add to that finding out from the shopkeeper of the bookstore next to the Leaky Cauldron that eating Fae food will turn you into a Changeling, and from Bluey that her brother was named heir of the Goblin Kingdom . . . Well, that would make anyone's head spin. Toby, not having quite as much to deal with, didn't faint, but he was rather woozy for a few moments."

"So they're playing Scrabble."

"They have good conversations while playing that. It stimulates the brain, and so helps her sort things out."

"They're going to have another shock tomorrow, if you're right about that."

"Of course I'm right. Was there anything you needed, or did you just come to voice your concerns over my watching her?"

Hoggle grunted again. "Was just going to tell you that the triplets left another mess before going to Sarah's. When she does let you back . . . You will take good care of her, right? You won't hurt her?"

Jareth softened his gaze, smiling at the concern. _Hoggle's not the only one who's lost his head over a girl._ "I promise, on my life, that I will never intentionally harm her."

"Good," he muttered. Climbing up the steps, Hoggle joined his king in looking through the crystal. "So who has the high letters this time?"

"Q-U-I-Z. That's . . . twenty-two points. And it's on a triple-word space, so that's sixty-six!"

Sarah groaned, recording the score. "Lucky," she muttered, a smirk beginning. "You're cheating, aren't you?"

"Nope!" Toby answered, smirking back. Sarah had to look away so that she would stop being reminded of Jareth. "It's unbecoming of a prince to cheat."

In the past hour or so, they had come to terms with the fact that, yes, they were Changelings, and yes, Toby was Prince. Likely, it would take some getting used to in the future, but for now, they were just fine with it, and were focusing on their game. Being distracted, however, Sarah wasn't doing so well . . .

Didymus peered at the score sheet and smiled. "By Jove, thou hast done well! Two hundred thirty-six points, and counting!"

Toby grinned. "I learned from the best," he said, complimenting the clever, gallant terrier.

**...**

"That's true," Jareth allowed. "There has never been a match for Didymus until now."

"Pah," Hoggle grumbled. "Take a look at the scores again. Didymus has nearly four hundred."

"Is that even possible?"

"Don't ask me."

**...**

"Thee doth flatter me, my lord," Didymus said, and would have blushed if he had been able.

Sarah placed her tiles on the board, using the "Z" for "Z-I-G-S," the "S" being on a double-letter space. She recorded her score, fifteen, and glanced at the knight. "So, how's everyone doing back in the Underground?"

A sly grin crossed the terrier's face. "Thou meaneth _him_, doth thou not?" he asked, this time upholding his promise to never speak Jareth's name aloud in her hearing.

Sarah blushed, suddenly rather flustered, and Didymus continued.

"Oh, His Majesty hath been in a state of utter depression as of late."

**...**

"I have not!" Jareth cried, indignant.

"Quiet," Hoggle told him. "He can't hear you, and we won't be able to hear them if you shout."

**...**

"Utter depression? Really?" Sarah asked, confused and worried. That didn't sound good.

"Actually, no."

Sarah glared at him, and Didymus snickered.

"His Majesty has been rather gleeful as of late, in point of fact, and a little worried. Seems he hath been trying to get Sir Tobias and Your Ladyship to find out thou art Changelings for quite some time. Gleeful, because he loves the scheming, and worried, because he didn't know what thine reaction would be."

"Why couldn't you just tell us?"

"The rule, remember thou, fair maiden? One must ask the right questions."

"Oh. Yeah."

Skeeter spelled out "hungry" on the board, and Sarah smiled. "I take it that's a request for dinner, then?"

The goblin nodded, grinning. "Food!"

Didymus looked at the words on the board. "He seemeth to have been hungry for a while. 'Meal,' 'good,' 'ice,' 'milk,' . . ."

Sarah pat her little helper and friend on his bald head. "You know you can tell me you're hungry at any time, Skeeter. Go ahead and take your turn, Didymus, since you're the last one in the cycle. I think you've won, anyhow."

Didymus laid down the tiles for "yak," concluding their match. Sarah wrote down the score, and immediately crumpled the sheet into a ball, muttering to herself.

The terrier grinned. "I take it I won, then, fair maiden?"

"Yes," she answered with a grimace. Toby snatched the ball of paper from her hands before she could react, and smoothed it out to read. "Ha!" he laughed. "I thought you were a writer."

"I am."

"Then why do you have such a low score?"

"Because you guys got the good letters and spaces, and my brain is still a jumbled mess. You, brother, are burning that."

"I think I'll frame it, actually."

"And I'll have you know that one hundred fifty-eight is a very good score, and- What? No!"

Skeeter put the game away as the woman attempted to snatch the paper away from her snickering brother. After failing for the tenth time, she scowled. "Oh, I wish you'd just hand me that!" she cried in frustration.

Toby froze, and the paper was suddenly sitting before her at the table. They all stared in shock, and Sarah clapped her hands over her mouth. "Oh, crap."

**...**

"She said it?"

"She did," Jareth confirmed, grinning in amusement. Sarah looked horrified at the words that had come from her, having forgotten to control her tongue in the heat of the moment.

"It shouldn't be able to work like that," Hoggle said, frowning.

"Well, he's only eleven. As time goes on, and he becomes stronger, and learns how to wield his magic, he'll be able to resist such meaningless wishes from his sister, who has magic of her own."

This surprised the dwarf. "Sarah has magic?"

"'But what no one knew was that the King of the Goblins had fallen in love with the girl, and had given her certain powers,'" Jareth quoted. "She'll find out someday what exactly that entails."

"And Toby?"

Jareth smiled. "You'll find out soon.

"Tomorrow, it begins."

* * *

**Author's Commentary #3**

_On Jareth and Scrabble . . . _Sarah is stubborn. We all know that. As I write this story (currently being in the eighth chapter), I find myself slightly frustrated that I can't have them meet yet, and she has to remain oblivious about the banishment. The Rule about having to ask first will play a crucial role in this plot point, and I don't remember if this (Didymus' introduction of the rule) or that (Sarah having to ask why Jareth hasn't visited her) was thought of first. As a result of her stubbornness, she has forbidden his name being spoken, as not being able to actually see him causes the thought of him to bring her pain. She has, from the point she met him, never spoken his name aloud. As for Jareth, he is understandably frustrated by this, and seeks the only consolation he has, which is watching her. The idea of his and Hoggle's observation of their Scrabble game came as a spur-of-the-moment kind of thing, like most other elements in my stories. Hoggle, of course, wouldn't like Jareth watching Sarah. But, having ten years to work out some of their differences after meeting Sarah, I suppose they could be civil with each other while watching their favorite humans play a game. Also, Jareth would of course know things about Sarah that she doesn't yet know, as he gave her the powers. So he can't help but be amused by her accidental wish. All in all, Jareth's first appearance serves as a way of explaining some things and foreshadowing others. Please be patient about his and Sarah's reunion, as it will not come until Sarah and Toby are well-settled at Hogwarts. I know, I'm impatient, too . . .


	5. Chapter 4

I accidentally deleted this chapter, so I don't remember what was written here before. Anyhow, thanks for the reviews, **ladyofthedragons1**, **tag.0**, **Shai Neko**, **faerie fire**, **notwritten**, and **poisongirl1713**!

**notwritten-** Fox terrier, actually. :-P

* * *

**Chapter Four – Of Letters and Owls**

Sarah stretched as she rolled out of bed, the alarm blaring offensively in her ears. Toby hadn't been resentful at all of her unintentional use of the words "I wish," which she now found had power over him as well, as future king. After a few moments of stunned silence, they had laughed it off, and continued with their evening as was normal. Didymus returned to his post after dinner, the other goblins went home, and the three inhabitants of the house spent the next hour cleaning up after the triplets. Sarah had thanked Bluey for the information, had apologized for reacting as she did, and went to bed that night feeling both calm and restless at the same time.

She was amazed that she could still act so normally in the light of these new revelations. Then she realized that nothing had changed except for their knowledge. _Nothing is as it seems,_ she remembered clearly. Toby had until he was eighteen, anyway, so there was no great hurry.

_I do wish Jareth would show up, though,_ she thought, not daring to speak it aloud. The words "I wish" had a power, she had repeatedly found, and she had forbidden the use of Jareth's name when she was around. Hearing Jareth's name being spoken was painful, and any Fae or Goblin seemed bound to obey the words "I wish," as evidenced by her accidental wishes in the past ten years that were fulfilled by the goblins, and Toby's compliance to her wish just the day before. Would it always be like that?

_I hope not,_ she mused, shutting off the alarm. Yesterday had been way too confusing for her poor mind to handle, and she had slept like a log after she finally calmed down enough to sleep.

Skeeter poked his head in as soon as he heard her moving around. "Lady need help?"

"No, thank you," she sighed, massaging her head. "By the way, what's today's date?"

"First of July. Lady get ready, Skeeter cook breakfast. 'Kay?"

"All right," she agreed, heading for the bathroom. Satisfied, Skeeter left.

Half an hour later, Sarah arrived downstairs, freshly showered and feeling much better. Skeeter stood by the stove, flipping pancakes exactly as she had taught him. A stack already stood waiting, the top few of which Toby was helping himself. "Morning, sleepyhead," he teased, and she smiled.

"Good morning, my prince. Don't wait for me, I'm going to check the mail first."

"Sure thing." Toby dug in, and Sarah giggled at his manners. They would definitely have to work on those.

It was another beautiful day, she saw, stepping outside for a quick breath of fresh air. Flapping drew her attention, and she looked up, gasping, at the owl diving toward her.

Fear and excitement rushed through her briefly, then disappointment settled in as she saw it was just a plain, old, brown owl, and not the great white and tawny barn owl whose form Jareth took. Curiosity, however, soon set in, as she wondered what an owl was doing here, of all places, and in broad daylight.

It clutched a letter in its talons, and dropped it straight into her hands as it swooped past. Looking at it, Sarah frowned.

_Mr. Tobias H. J. Williams_

_North bedroom_

_Number 13 Singing Place_

_Kingston, London_

_This is the oddest letter I have ever seen,_ she decided, finding it eerie that whoever sent it knew which room Toby slept in, and that he had a second middle name, as given by the Goblin King. Maybe this was from him?

This, she found, was a rather incorrect supposition. The address was written on the yellowish parchment in dark green ink. As she turned it over, she saw it had a dark red wax seal, with a stylized "H" pressed into it. No one in the Underground used that seal, and certainly not Jareth. The owl that brought it sat by patiently, as if waiting for her to take it inside, away from it.

She glanced between the owl and the letter for a moment, then turned to go in, muttering a quick "thank you" to the bird. It flew away, leaving her to stare at the envelope in her hands.

Toby looked up from his food as she entered the kitchen, dumping onto the table the mail she had gathered from inside the door. She still stared at the heavy envelope, confused by the strange address.

"Who's that from?" he asked after swallowing. She shook her head.

"I have no idea. It's for you, though."

"Really?" Toby took it from her, making sure his hands were free of syrup, and examined it as she had. Then he opened it, the seal coming free without even tearing the paper. Upon opening the first folded sheet of paper inside, his eyebrows rose in surprise, and he began to read aloud.

"_'Mr. Tobias H. J. Williams. _

"_'We are pleased to announce you have been accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. All fees have been paid in advance, and we await your confirmation letter (send via owl) by no later than the Thirty-First of July. Enclosed is a list of supplies needed for your schooling, and a letter to Gringotts from your benefactor. A professor from the school or an official from the Ministry of Magic will stop by shortly to assist you in your preparations, and we look forward to seeing you at the start of term on the First of September this year. _

"_'Sincerely, _

"_'Minerva McGonagall, _

"_'Deputy Headmistress.'"_

Sarah's jaw hung open in a rather undignified manner. "Witchcraft and Wizardry" rang through her mind, as did the word "benefactor." She had forgotten all about the Leaky Cauldron, and its strange clientele. And then . . . "benefactor" . . .

"Skeeter," she said, her voice monotone as she stared numbly at the parchment in her brother's hands. "Do you know anything about this?"

Skeeter clapped his hands over his mouth. "King said not to tell!" came the muffled response, and his eyes widened at the unbidden words.

"Tell what?" she prompted, intrigued as she dragged her mind back to the situation at hand. "Skeeter, did the king pay for this schooling?"

"Yes," Skeeter muttered.

"Why?"

"King said Prince needs to control mortal magic before Fae magic is awoken. That why Prince stay until eighteen, not before, and that why King not interfere. You don't have the money, and King want to help, so he pay."

_How generous,_ the little voice in Sarah's head said. She told it to shut up.

Why _had_ Jareth decided to help, aside from the fact that it was his heir's schooling he was providing for? And why, if he cared so much, did he not come and see them?

However dearly she wanted to know, however, she didn't feel like she was ready to face him in light of these new events – or _because_ of these new events. While two days ago, she might have willingly summoned him, her thoughts were too confused at the moment for her to trust herself around the Fae for the first time in ten years.

Placing her elbows on the table and her head in her hands, Sarah groaned. "I think I might need to go back to bed," she muttered, feeling a headache coming on. "That, or take Paracetemol."

"Skeeter get some," the goblin volunteered, and rushed off before she could ask any more questions.

Toby's eyes were nearly as big as dinner plates as he tried to absorb all that had just happened. "Magic . . . Benefactor . . . Owl . . ."

"Try not to think too hard," Sarah advised dryly. Her focus turned to Skeeter as he came back, and smiled gratefully. "Thanks," she told the goblin, popping a pill into her mouth and washing it down with water. He disappeared again, and reemerged in the kitchen with the Scrabble box. "Need help," he said in a matter-of-fact tone of voice. "Play?"

Sarah smiled, and Toby forced himself to pay attention. "Shuffle 'em," the boy said by way of agreement. For the next hour, they played, sorting out their thoughts and coming to terms once more with current events through the stimulated conversation.

And then the doorbell rang.

* * *

**Author's Commentary #4**

_On the owl and letter . . ._ I had wanted the owl's arrival to be a bit more dramatic, but . . . fail. As for the address, being an American and unfamiliar with British post, I was unsure of how to write it. If anyone can correct me, please do so. And, yes, I made use of the clichéd 13, quite shamelessly. "Singing Place" is not a real street, I'm quite certain, and was inspired by the fact that there is singing in the movie _Labyrinth_.No real significance, just an address. As for the letter, having no _HPPS (book 1)_ around to use as a reference, I was forced to think one up on my own, with only my memory to rely on for some points. Wikipedia is useful, and I discovered that I was right about the start of term being September First. How Harry's letter was begun and signed, I don't remember. But, as this is a unique letter, please excuse this.

* * *

**Edited 2-23-11**


	6. Chapter 5

Thank you very much for reviewing, **myladyswardrobe**, **faerie fire**, **ladyofthedragons1**, **Celestialdome**, **notwritten**, and **daeth iscarif**!

**myladyswardrobe** – Thank you so much! Your review has been extremely helpful. I edited the name of the medicine on my laptop, and will get to editing the chapter here sometime soon. If I ever need your help, I'm sure I will take you up on your offer. **:-P** Thanks again!

**faerie fire** – Thanks for the offer! I'll be sure to do that. **;-)**

**notwritten** – You're welcome. And don't worry. As I said before, even I thought he was a fox. **:-P**

* * *

**Chapter Five – Of Wizards and Muggles**

The doorbell rang . . . And rang . . . And rang again. Perturbed, Sarah rose, heading for the front door. "Go ahead and keep playing," she instructed, seeing no reason to stop for what might be some teenage pranksters.

Whoever it was on the front stoop, they obviously weren't well versed in the proper etiquette of doorbells. As she opened the door, she found a stocky man with flaming red hair, khaki slacks, a brown jacket, white shirt, and a tie with scarlet and gold stripes. Obviously not hearing her, he continued pressing the button, as if spellbound by it.

"It's not a toy," she told the strange man, interrupting his play. "Please stop ringing it. I'm here already."

"Fascinating things, doorbells," the man mused aloud, then introduced himself. "Arthur Weasley, Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office, Ministry of Magic, at your service. Sarah Williams, I presume?"

"Ah, yes," she answered, taken aback. "What's a Muggle?"

"Term for non-wizards, is all," said Mr. Weasley as he moved past her and into the house, all the while looking around at the "Muggle artifacts." Sarah heard him mutter "fascinating" again, and closed the door, more than a little confused. "Are you here because of that letter we got an hour or so ago?"

"Ah, yes! The letter!" Mr. Weasley nodded enthusiastically as he tore his gaze from the clock on the wall. "Normally a wizard would come with the letter, for families not previously associated with the wizarding world, but someone made a mistake at the Post Office. The owl didn't startle you too much, I hope? I'm afraid you got assigned the wrong bird, too. That particular brown owl has a habit of dive-bombing unsuspecting recipients."

She felt the beginnings of a smile, and let it come. "It's quite all right. I'm used to surprises, though being attacked by an owl isn't the best of experiences. It just dropped the letter as it swooped past, is all."

"Good to hear." Mr. Weasley looked around again, and spied the passage to the kitchen. "Is your brother in there, then?"

"Toby? Yes."

"Good, good. I shall have to talk to both of you, as you will be needing things at the shops, as well. Robes to wear at your new job."

Sarah blinked. "I'm sorry, what?"

"You didn't know?"

"The letter didn't say anything about a job . . ."

"Oh, dear, we have a bit of confusion, don't we," he muttered to himself.

"If it helps any," Sarah put in, "you won't need any spells or potions to allow me to see the magical places. I saw some place called the Leaky Cauldron yesterday, and I'm sure I was the only . . . Muggle . . . who could."

"Is that so!" he exclaimed. "Fascinating. Well, that certainly does help quite a bit. And . . . yesterday, you say?"

"Yes. My first encounter with your world," she confirmed. "So if I pass out, don't be too worried. And I've seen stranger things, so this isn't that big a stretch for me."

"And your brother?" Mr. Weasley asked, concerned.

"Him, too. Goblins, and all that."

"Goblins!" The wizard seemed startled by this, and Sarah frowned.

"I suppose one might usually call them gremlins. There are all sorts of species of goblins, and the ones that commonly frequent my home are . . . Well, you'll meet Skeeter, and quite possibly the triplets. Please, come into the kitchen," she continued, leading him there. "Would you like a cup of tea? I just boiled water, and the tea leaves are soaking."

"Of course, tea would be wonderful," said Mr. Weasley, accepting the courtesy as he followed. Toby and Skeeter looked up as he entered, and Sarah wondered if the latter had known it was a wizard. For anyone else, he would have disappeared in a flash – occasionally a burst of glitter – most likely to the Underground.

Sarah introduced them as she poured the tea. "This is Arthur Weasley from the Ministry of Magic. Mr. Weasley, this is my brother Toby, and our friendly resident goblin, Skeeter."

Skeeter and Mr. Weasley stared at each other, the former with wariness and the other with wonderment. Finally, Skeeter turned back to the Scrabble board. "Trustworthy," he muttered. "Lady's turn."

Sarah nodded, peering at her tiles as she fixed the tea. "Hmm . . . Just one second, and I'll get back to you on that. What did you two lay down?"

"Skeeter put down 'strategy,' and I put down 'scarred,'" Toby volunteered. "What's your job like, Mr. Weasley?"

"Quite fascinating," answered the wizard, tearing his gaze away from the goblin and taking the offered chair. "In my office of confiscating misused Muggle artifacts, I once came across an ice chest that had been turned into trap for garden gnomes. Poor things nearly froze to death before I was able to let them loose."

Toby stifled a laugh. "Garden gnomes?"

"Quite the pests," he confirmed. "My children and their friends, when they stay over, often help with degnoming the garden. That is, however, no excuse to off the creatures in such an inhumane way. Most wizards nowadays find even Jarveys too brutal, and those are sure to off the things quickly. Really, all we do is spin them around 'til they're dizzy, and drop them over the wall."

"Sounds interesting," Sarah allowed, setting a cup of tea before her impromptu guest as she made a mental note to ask later what a Jarvey was. "The wizarding world sounds quite wonderful, in some aspects. I saw a poster yesterday in that pub for a game called . . . Quidditch, was it? The picture was moving."

"Yes, Muggles' photographs do stand still, don't they? Pity, Muggles miss out on so much, as do we wizards. There are just so many fascinating things . . . Take telephones, for instance. Just dial a number, and instantly, you can speak to someone half across the world, or just next door, no pain involved."

Toby frowned. "They don't seem all that strange to me."

"Ah, but you have grown up around such things. The wonderful things in life, such as a walk in the park, a sunny day, lose their . . . magic, for lack of a better term, if you are subjected to them day in, day out. While you hardly bat an eye at a . . . doorbell for instance, it is a mystery to me, an object of curiosity. Likewise, I don't find a levitated cooking spoon at all curious, because my wife does that every day."

Sarah smiled, intrigued. "Sounds as if we have a lot to learn from each other. Now, you were saying something about a job offer?"

That caught Toby's attention quite easily. "Sarah's getting a job?"

"If she wants it." Mr. Weasley smiled at the woman, a sparkle in his eyes. "How do you feel about being a librarian?"

**...**

"So, let me get this straight. My 'mysterious benefactor' donated money to the school, and requested that you give my sister a job as assistant librarian at Hogwarts, as long as she consented to the position. This, so that Sarah could still stay with me even when I go to school. Am I following that right?"

"Sharp boy," Mr. Weasley complimented as he led them down the street toward the wizards' pub. Skeeter had stayed home, saying that the triplets would be waiting for them at their destination. "And I do believe that wizard bookstores have their eyes on your collections of goblin tales, Miss Williams. They hold a magic that even wizards are drawn to. Madam Pince, the head librarian at Hogwarts, was saying something about adding them to the leisure section."

Sarah narrowed her eyes. "Why do I get the feeling that things are going too well? I dare not say, 'a piece of cake,' but it does seem like the gears are rather too well oiled."

"Sometimes, Miss Williams, despite what you said some time earlier, things can be _exactly_ as they seem. Good fortune, in your case. For the books, that is. For your job, it appears you had a little bit of outside help."

She nodded silently, refusing to think about the implications of this move on Jareth's part. If he was so eager to help her, why did he not just come and see her? That had to be easier than ruling a bunch of rowdy creatures . . . right?

Their arrival at the Leaky Cauldron turned her attention back to the here and now, and she followed diligently behind Toby and Mr. Weasley, always making certain that her brother didn't get separated from them. In their first sojourn to this new world, she wasn't taking any chances.

"Hello, Arthur," the bartender greeted. "Another student?"

"That he is, Tom. I'd love to chat, but we must be going. Perhaps you and I can talk later, when we've finished with our errands." The friendly wizard waved, and led his companions to the back of the pub, where a door opened up to a small, chilly courtyard. Mr. Weasley had them close the door behind, and began counting something in a whisper. After a moment, he drew his wand, and tapped a brick three times.

Sarah started, her brother making a similar action, as the brick wall before them opened up to a bustling street full of witches and wizards.

"Diagon Alley," Mr. Weasley said by way of explanation. "Have you got your list, Tobias? We'll swing by Gringotts to get your money first, then continue on to the stores to buy your things."

Toby patted his pocket, the rustling sound answering for him. "Ready when you are," he said, slightly dazed. Sarah gave him a gentle nudge through the portal, and off they went to Gringotts Wizarding Bank. A fleeting motion out of the corner of her eye drew Sarah's gaze, and she smiled to see the mischievous triplets scurrying unseen through the crowd, keeping an ever-watchful eye on their lord and lady.

_What a day this is turning out to be,_ she thought, and hurried after her brother and guide, troublemakers' antics far from her mind.

* * *

**Author's Commentary #5**

_On Mr. Weasley . . ._ I had fun writing him in this part. Him being a wizard with a fascination for Muggle objects, I imagine he would have fun with a doorbell. I am rather pleased with how the discussion on wizards and Muggles turned out, how they are used to their own things but find object of the other nature quite strange. He, having an interest in Muggle "artifacts," is probably the best person I could have picked to make this observation, though I suppose Hermione wouldn't do too bad a job, or Harry. As you'll see, being sympathetic to Muggles, Mr. Weasley will make quite a good tour guide in the coming chapters.


	7. Chapter 6

Thank you for reviewing, **sandyrah**, **Mint Tea Rose**, **notwritten**, **Shai Neko**, **daeth iscarif**, **faerie fire**, and **Mevneriel**!

**sandyrah** – Yeah, sorry about the chapter length. :-P Most of the time, I try to average three pages per chapter, but I suppose I should try for something longer, eh?

**Mint Tea Rose** – No, Sarah is not getting a wand.

**Shai Neko** – Indeed. :-P

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**Chapter Six – Of Galleons and Goblins**

The great stone building which housed Gringotts rose out of the intersection of Knockturn Alley and Diagon Alley like a sequoia among oaks. A large set of bronze doors sat in the middle of its face, atop a series of steps leading up from the street. A goblin, of a different, more serious, less humorous sort than Sarah or Toby were used to, stood by the doors like a guard. Seeing him, Sarah now understood why Mr. Weasley had looked so surprised at her knowing and living with goblins.

The goblin at the doors straightened as they approached, a glint of recognition in his beady eyes. Bowing, he murmured a greeting, and opened the door for them.

"Thank you," Sarah said, smiling. Toby, a little perturbed by the behavior, did likewise, but with less certainty than his sister. Mr. Weasley . . . Well, Mr. Weasley was more than a little surprised by this strange action, the likes of which he had never seen from a goblin before.

Two more goblins stood by the inner set of silver doors which were inscribed with a rather chilling verse, warning thieves of the consequences of their actions. Sarah shivered at the words, but otherwise found them irrelevant to her, as she had no plans of robbing the bank. The goblins at these door also bowed, and she caught the words "prince" and "lady" among their murmurs. She thanked them, too, mimicked by her rather unsettled brother, and walked past, her guide following behind all the while.

A whisper spread through the main hall, passed from goblin to goblin as brother and sister strode deeper into the room. They paused in their activities, whether they were busy or not, and bowed, much to the curiosity of the witches and wizards awaiting their money.

By now, Toby was looking plaintive. "Sarah . . ."

"Don't worry," she assured him, nervous herself but hiding it well, "I'll try to get them to take it easy this time. But you know, you are going to have to get used to it."

"I'd rather not," he answered, ignoring the abundantly curious wizard behind them. "Prince or no, I'm not about to allow myself to get used to being bowed to, even if it is by my future subjects."

"Shh," she hushed him, aware of their audience. "We'll discuss this later, in private. For now, just try to ignore it, and let's find the manager. Mr. Weasley, if you would lead us to him?"

"Of course," the wizard answered, returning to his post as guide. "Griphook's there, coming toward us, actually. You have the letter, yes?"

"In my pocket," Toby replied, pulling it out. He held it in his hands, looking as if he was trying not to crumple it up in his nervousness.

Sarah returned Griphook's bow, smiling at her brother's agitation. "Thank you for these gestures, sir," she began, "but my brother isn't accustomed to such acts. Please, treat us as normal customers."

"This," the goblin answered, "can only be done to a certain extent, due to your brother's status, and yours." He turned, gave a signal, and the other goblins returned to their work. "Is this satisfactory?"

"Thank you," Toby said. "Uh . . . I was told to give this letter to the manager of the bank."

"I am Griphook, milord." The goblin bowed again, briefly, and accepted the proffered parchment. As he led the three to his desk, he looked the letter over, making small noises of acknowledgment to its content. "Knaz," he called, and a goblin emerged through a doorway close to the manager's desk. When he was near enough, Griphook continued. "Prince Tobias is here to collect money from his vault. Take care of things here while I escort him, the Lady, and their guide."

Mr. Weasley blinked. "'Prince'?" he asked Sarah in a whisper.

She nodded. "Long story," she whispered back. "Maybe later."

"This way, please," Griphook called, already heading for the door through which Knaz had come. Refocused on the present, the trio hurried after him.

**...**

"Now, then," Griphook said as they stepped out of the tram. "You are each permitted to withdraw from this vault once a month, with an emergency withdraw allowed every four. If you purchase an item which exceeds the amount in your possession, you may send a letter listing the amount owed. The funds will be taken from this vault. As for you, Mr. Weasley, the Williams' benefactor has deposited in your vault a sum of two thousand Galleons – that's the equivalent of fourteen thousand Pounds, or nearly twenty thousand American dollars."

Sarah and Toby whistled at the generosity, and Mr. Weasley nearly fainted.

Griphook went to the door, stroked the center, and the multitude of locks disengaged, allowing the double doors to swing open. When she got a look inside, Sarah's jaw dropped. "Oh . . . my. That . . . _person_ is insane, isn't he?"

Before Griphook could be offended by the comment about His Majesty, Toby leaned over and whispered, "She actually really likes him. She's just in denial. But that _is_ a lot of money . . ."

Griphook grunted, appeased. "Milady, there is one other thing. Your benefactor asked that I tell you this, though he would not say what it means. He told you you would understand. 'A.F.Y.'"

"All for you," Sarah whispered, her amazement growing. "I don't think I'll ever be able to figure that guy out . . ." _If he's being so nice,_ she wondered silently, _why doesn't he just call?_

Mr. Weasley took a look at the piles of money, and whistled, not the least bit jealous. "That is one mighty generous benefactor," he said, his voice tinged with awe. "Here's a pouch, Tobias. Fill it with mostly Galleons, the gold, some Sickles, the silver, and a few of the Knuts. That's the bronze. And here's a pouch for you, Miss Williams. I suggest you fill it with the same."

Sarah came out of her reverie, still blinking rapidly in shock. "Oh . . . Thanks. Come on, Toby. You heard the wizard."

The siblings hunted down the appropriate coins, filled their pouches, and left the vault, the bags hanging from their belts. "Are we done?" Toby asked, looking to Griphook, and the goblin nodded. "After you, milord and milady." He passed the letter to Sarah, indicating that she was to keep it.

"Hang on to that for when you next need to withdraw, though your faces are instantly recognizable for any goblin, Gringotts or otherwise."

"Thank you," Sarah said. "I'll remember that. Oh, and . . . thank our benefactor, please."

"I shall do that, milady. Into the tram, please."

Obediently, they climbed aboard, and began the roller coaster ride once more.

**...**

"Two thousand Galleons . . ." Mr. Weasley still was not over the shock of such a gift. "If I ever meet this chap, then he shall receive my most sincere thanks. Though, he'll get it anyway, somehow. Two thousand Galleons! That will certainly help with the bills."

"How big a family do you have?" Toby asked, curious. Since leaving the bank, he had become more and more at ease. Though not in a world he recognized, here was a place where no one bowed to him, and he felt more like their equal. For most eleven-year-olds, people bowing to them might sound cool, but for Toby, having just actually experienced it, it was a little frightening and unnerving.

The question brought Mr. Weasley back to the matter at hand, and he smiled at the boy. "I have a wife, Molly, two sons off somewhere in the world, Bill and Charlie, a third son working at the Ministry, Percy, identical twin boys, Fred and George, in their seventh year at Hogwarts, a sixth son in his fifth year – his name's Ron – and my daughter Ginny is in her fourth year. A lot of mouths to feed when they're all at home, especially with visitors, and a rather small salary on top of that, but it's enough. I wonder, how on earth did your benefactor know . . .?"

Toby grinned. "Maybe he did, maybe he didn't. He's generous like that, sometimes."

"You know who it is?"

"Pretty good idea, but I'm not allowed to say. Now, what do we get first?"

"Oh, yes. First stop, Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. Just to the left there . . ."

**...**

Sarah watched as Madam Malkin measured Toby, having already done so for her. Her robes, hat, and cloak sat in her lap, bought and paid for.

Mr. Weasley returned, finished shopping for most of the other things on Toby's list. He carried a cauldron, which held various potion ingredients, a set of brass scales, crystal phials, and a telescope. They had decided to visit the bookstore together, so that Sarah could browse while Toby got his school books.

"We're done!" Toby announced, coming up to the two adults. He carried the robes and other items in his arms, which he had received from Madam Malkin while Sarah was distracted by Mr. Weasley's entrance. "Thanks, ma'am!"

Madam Malkin smiled and bid them farewell, and the trio left.

"Now, then," Mr. Weasley announced. "First your books, and then your wand. After that, we should get an owl for the two of you, so that you don't have to use the school's."

"All right!" Toby cheered, running ahead to Flourish and Blotts. Sarah followed, smiling at his enthusiasm. He had placed his robes in the cauldron, with the previously bought supplies, and was now unburdened.

"Stick close!" she called, but was distracted from him by a tug at her jeans.

A small goblin stared up at her, the youngest of the mischievous triplets who frequented Sarah's home. "We watch," he told her. "We guard."

"Thank you, Pretzel," Sarah sighed. "I'm afraid Toby is still immature in some ways."

Pretzel grinned. "Fun," he said. "Good king someday. He threatened us with Bog once, too."

Sarah felt a smirk coming on. "Did he, now. Is this the proper behavior?"

"Yep, good thing. Bog is discipline! Bog _stinky_."

"It is, at that. Did I ever tell you about how I almost got sent into it?"

"Yep! Go to bookstore?"

Sarah followed, sending a smile her confused guide's way. "Again, I'll tell you later."

As they entered Flourish and Blotts, Sarah frowned at Pretzel. "Why is it that no one notices you?"

"Because," Pretzel began, but Squeak, the second-youngest of the triplets, came out of nowhere and continued the statement. "We can make ourselves known."

"To anyone," rebounded Pretzel.

"We wish," Squeak finished. "All others."

"Just don't see us!"

Sarah and Mr. Weasley followed this rather well, and when they were done, the wizard seemed close to laughing. "It's like listening to Fred and George. And they're triplets, you say?"

The woman grinned back at him. "It is amusing, isn't it? All three are identical, too, just like your twins. The only way to tell them apart is by what they wear, and sometimes how they act when they're alone, with no hive mind to link up with, so to speak."

"By golly, I can hardly imagine."

Smiling, Sarah turned back to the goblins. "Thank you," she told them. "Where are Ziggy and Toby?"

"Fairy tales," Squeak answered.

"We lead!" added Pretzel.

"After you, then." Sarah let them guide her to their respective brothers, her highly amused escort following along behind. While she shuddered to think of what it would be like for the goblin triplets and the wizard twins to meet, she did look forward to meeting this "Fred and George." If she could handle the mischievous triplets, surely she could handle these twins.

Toby was waiting for them, in a way, with his nose buried in a book. When they approached, he looked up, his eyes alive with merriment. "These," he pronounced, "are _real_ fairy tales! And look, the already have your books here, Sarah!"

"So they do," she murmured, smiling to herself at the sight of the wizards' versions of her books. "I think I'll buy these, since they're illustrated with moving pictures. Go with Mr. Weasley, Toby, and get your school books. And mind you, don't try to lose him or Ziggy."

"Yes, ma'am," he answered, and hurried off, wizard and eldest triplet in tow.

Amused once more, Sarah pulled a copy of each of her books off the shelves, and began to browse.

* * *

**Author's Commentary #6**

_On the goblins . . . _Yes, I have read book seven (twice, I think), and yes, I will be ignoring most everything it says about the goblins, I'm pretty sure. If I need a reference, I will look to Wikipedia and the "Magical_creatures_(Harry_Potter)" page. It has a small section on them. Also, I'm sorry if this seems like I'm stealing from _Of Dreamers and Journeys_! It's just that I can't really think of any better reaction from the Gringotts goblins.

_On the triplets . . ._ At first these little twerps are only mentioned in passing, and you don't get to see what they're like, though it is clear that they visit regularly, and are at Sarah's home when their mother, Bluey, tells Sarah that her brother was chosen by Jareth as heir. Their hive mind-like behavior, finishing each other's sentences and such, was inspired by Fred and George's habit of doing so. This is why it is imperative that the twins be in the story later on, so that they and the triplets can cause the most mischievous havoc Hogwarts has ever seen, reined in, of course, by Sarah and Toby. Mr. Weasley's comparison of the triplets and the twins will serve a purpose later on, as well. If I remember, that is. **:-P **


	8. Chapter 7

Thank you so much, **ladyofthedragons1**, **notwritten**, **Shai Neko**, **daeth iscarif**, **faerie fire**, **Jay FicLover**, **idfcv**, and **erin nicole**! Your reviews are so very much appreciated. Sorry for taking so long to update, but life has been busy and school is growling at me.

**Shai Neko**- Originally I was planning on an OC DADA professor. However, you have inspired me. Perhaps we will see Umbridge! Let's see how long she lasts, hmm? **XD** Of course, I won't be following the book on some – maybe most – things.

**daeth iscarif**- Hmm. Wasn't aiming for that feel, but it happens, I suppose. **:-P**

**Jay FicLover**- Glad I could provide a fresh view!

**erin nicole**- Unfortunately, you're going to have to wait a while longer. **;-)

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**Chapter Seven – Of Wands and Malfoys**

"_Ollivander's: Maker of Fine Wands since 382 BC_" was inscribed in peeling gold over the door of their next destination. The store was narrow and shabby, with a single wand resting on a faded purple cushion in the dusty display window. Inside, shelves upon shelves of long, narrow boxes crowded the store, leaving just enough room for a desk and a small open space at the front, where a new chair, looking out of place in the old surroundings, sat. As they waited, Sarah taking a seat, there was a shuffling noise toward the back, followed by the appearance of a crown of white hair. Pale eyes settled upon Mr. Ollivander's visitors, and the man himself came fully into view. "Ah, welcome, welcome," he said, a smile on his lips. Toby gave a hesitant smile, unnerved slightly by the creepiness of this wizard. "That's it, lad, don't be shy. Step forward, and we'll get to your measuring. Ah . . . which is your wand hand?"

"I'm right-handed, if that's what you mean," Toby supplied helpfully, holding up said limb. Mr. Ollivander took hold of it, and began taking measurements with a measuring tape. Any way the arm could be sized, it was. Sarah noted with not a little curiosity that, though Mr. Ollivander let go of the tape and moved away toward the shelves, the tape kept at it, measuring Toby's height, his head, his shoulders, his nose, his eyes . . .

"This one, try this one," Mr. Ollivander suggested, coming back with a long box, containing a stick of a light colored wood. No sooner had Toby's fingers touched it than it was snatched away.

"That's no good," the old man muttered, going back to the shelves. He offered another wand, and it was again rejected.

Sarah wondered what the wand maker was looking for. Some minutes ago, the measuring tape had been put back on the desk, its job finished, and it seemed this stage was the testing of wands.

Finally, at least a dozen wands later, and a few displaced papers and boxes, Toby picked up a reddish, dark-colored wand, and a shower of silvery and golden sparks shot out of the end. Applauding, Mr. Ollivander beamed at the boy. "Ah, yes, that one. It's extra special, that one is. Excellent with charms, but defensive and offensive spells aren't too far behind, either. A well-rounded one, that is, but most curious. Redwood, eleven inches long, stained with something a little goblin-like creature gave me one day, several years ago. Its core is a mixture of phoenix feather, and something the same creature claimed was fairy bone dust, though I haven't ever seen any evidence to collaborate that tale. I thought that wand would be useless, a failed experiment. Seems as if it's claimed an owner, after all."

Toby stared at his wand, a pleased expression on his face. "Thank you, Mr. Ollivander, sir. Any special care instructions?"

"Simply to not break it," the wizard chuckled. "You may polish it, but only once every six months. The stain contributes something to the magical properties of the wand, I believe. The polish doesn't take the stain off, but it could hinder it slightly, and every little bit counts."

"I'll remember that, sir. How much?"

"Seven Galleons, three Sickles, and four Knuts. Ah, thank you, thank you. While I hope to see you again, young man, may it not be for another wand . . ."

Toby grinned. "I'll try my hardest to keep this in good condition. Bye!"

The trio left, Mr. Weasley examining the boy's new wand with fascination. "Little goblin-like creature?"

"Leave off the 'like,'" Sarah laughed, ruffling her brother's hair and smoothing it down again. "I'm sure it was a real goblin. Um . . . Speaking of goblins, where'd the triplets run off to?"

"They were here a minute ago," Toby answered, frowning. Mr. Weasley returned his wand, looked up, and grimaced. "Oh, joy," he muttered.

Sarah glanced in the direction he had, and gave her guide a curious look. "What is it?"

He didn't answer, but such soon became unnecessary, as two wizards with pale skin and platinum blonde hair approached. One, the older, had his hair grown out, reaching past his shoulders. The younger, obviously his son, wore his short and slicked back. If it weren't for the sneers they wore as they stopped in front of the trio, the newcomers might have been handsome.

"Well, well," said the older in a silky voice. "If it isn't the Blood Traitor. Babysitting again, Weasley? Who is it this time?" He glanced at Toby, who stared back unflinchingly, having the same boldness as his sibling. "A Mudblood. How quaint. And is this his mother?"

"Sister," Sarah corrected icily, her defenses raised. Though she didn't know them, something about these two set her on edge. Something caused her hackles to rise, dog though she was not.

"A Muggle, then," he continued, unperturbed.

Mr. Weasley bristled. "Just because we're Purebloods, Lucius, doesn't mean we're the only ones who are allowed to be wizards. Besides, they can't help who they are, any more than we can."

"I take great pride in being a Pureblood, _Arthur_, something you obviously don't. Take care."

"Must I point out that you could have just as easily been born a Halfblood, or a Muggle-born? You take pride in something you had no part in."

The younger one stiffened. "Don't insult my father, Blood Traitor," he snapped.

"Draco," Lucius said calmly, "control yourself. This is not the time or place for such debates. Enjoy your babysitting of the Mudblood, Weasley. I'll see you later. Come, Draco."

They walked off, and Sarah let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding. "Who was that?"

"Lucius Malfoy," Mr. Weasley answered sourly. "And that was his son, Draco, a fifth year. I'm afraid you'll have to deal with him as well."

"I'll manage," she assured him, recovered now and smiling. "Somehow. Oh, there you are, you three. Where'd you go?"

The fire in the goblins' red eyes as they glared after the departing father and son made her do a double-take, spooked. They could get very frightening if they had motivation to, and part of her was glad they had disappeared before the two wizards had come.

"If we stayed," Ziggy began, growling.

"Their safety would not," continued Pretzel.

"Have been guaranteed," finished Squeak.

"And," Pretzel added.

"We must."

"Stay secret."

"For now."

Sarah shivered slightly as she thought of what might have happened, had the three stuck around for the insults. Not even the Bog of Eternal Stench, she realized, would have kept them from retaliating, perhaps violently.

Mr. Weasley seemed disconcerted by the triplets' way of talking. Two was bad enough. Three was just confusing.

"Well," he said finally, focusing back on the matter at hand. "While you will meet the son again, and possibly the father in the future, they're not worth wasting thought over at the moment. What do you say we forget about them, and go on to Eeylops Owl Emporium?"

"Capital idea," Sarah agreed. "Come on, Toby. Time to get ourselves a bird."

"Do you have any idea what type of owl you want?" Mr. Weasley asked as they set out again.

Sarah smiled wryly. "Anything but a barn owl."

**...**

"So what is a Pureblood, anyway? I realize that it means that there's no Muggle blood, and a Pureblood is entirely wizard, but what's the significance of that? And what's a Mudblood?"

Mr. Weasley glanced at Sarah, then went back to studying the various owls. "Most Purebloods take great pride in their heritage. That's not to say I don't, but I don't consider it a crime to marry someone who isn't a Pureblood, and I don't believe mixed-bloods or Muggle-borns to be lesser beings. Some extremists have even disowned their children because they married Muggles, Halfbloods, Halfbreeds, or Muggle-borns. Those same types believe that only Purebloods should be wizards, and I disagree. Any with the potential should be able to learn how to wield the power that's been bestowed upon them. It's a right any magical being has. Halfbloods are any mix of Pureblood and Muggle, or Muggle-born. These are the most common, far outnumbering the Purebloods. Muggle-borns are just that, witches or wizards with non-magical parents. The most extreme Purebloods, who look down on anyone who isn't a full-blooded witch or wizard, or whoever supports them them like me, call Muggle-borns 'Mudbloods,' a term I despise, and one that is generally not used in polite company. One Muggle-born I know, though, has come to accept the title with pride, rather than as an insult. She's my son Ron's friend, and perhaps his significant other sometime in the future."

Sarah grinned. "Boyfriend and girlfriend?"

"One can hope," Mr. Weasley said with a smile, not at all concerned with the prospect. "Do you understand now, why I and the goblins were mad at Lucius?"

"Yes, and I was mad, too, you know, even if I didn't know the meaning of the word 'Mudblood.' I could tell he was being an arrogant . . . jerk," she finished, deigning to lay off the more severe words for the sake of her brother's ears. "He's worse than anyone I've met before, and that's saying something."

Mr. Weasley paused, looking concerned, and frowned. "Yes, he is one of the worst, but there are worse than him."

"Somehow, that prospect isn't very appealing," Sarah answered dryly. "You are going to tell me what's worse, right?"

"I am," he confirmed, "and I'll let the Headmaster of Hogwarts tell you about the war."

"The . . . war?"

A goblin tugged at her jeans, and she looked down to see Pretzel, once more reassuring her. "We guard," he told her firmly. "We protect."

Mr. Weasley's brows rose. "Somehow, I get the feeling that whoever messes with you, madam, is in for the nastiest retribution they have ever faced or delivered."

She shuddered, the idea more than a little frightening. "Somehow," she echoed, "I think you're right."

* * *

**Author's Commentary #7**

_On the chair . . ._ Remember the one Hagrid broke? This is its replacement. **:-P**

_On the wand . . ._ This was originally going to be more outlandish, with unicorn horn dust and Thestral hair in addition to the phoenix feather and fairy bone dust, but I decided that we didn't need another Mary Sue wand. Two ingredients in the core is more than enough. Why the fairy bone dust, you ask? Well, I wanted it to have something from the Underground, hence the dust and the stain.

_On the Malfoys . . ._ I decided Sarah needed to see a bit of what she was up against in the future, as I was planning a confrontation between them and her much later on, as well. Originally, I planned on the triplets being all mad at Lucius (and consequently very frightening), but decided this could wait until later, and they had best retreat for the first confrontation. Also, I planned on Toby saying some of the things Mr. Weasley does, but decided he had better stay out of it and not draw attention to himself, yet. As an eleven-year-old prince, albeit of the goblins, it would probably not be the best idea to be so rude to someone of such high standing in a world he is new to. Thus, I assigned the argument to Mr. Weasley, who has more reason to dislike the Malfoys.


	9. Chapter 8

Thank you very much for reviewing, **notwritten**, **ladyofthedragons1**, **daeth iscarif**, **Emerald Penguin**, **leannapotter**, **Shai Neko**, **Mahina**, **Nercia Genisis**, **faerie fire**, **Erin Nicole**, **Watcher of the Moon**, and **THe KiKO peRsON**!

**Mahina-** Thank you for the suggestion! I don't have this story planned out except for a few scene ideas, but I'm glad you pointed that out to me. There are going to be a few interactions with Harry, Ron, and Hermione, but perhaps not so much. **:-P **As for the threat you suggested, I'll have to think about that. Mostly, I think, it's going to be about how Toby handles being a prince and keeping it quiet, and avoiding trouble with Snape, Umbridge, and bullies. Also, about Sarah's relationship with Jareth, whose in-person appearance will come eventually. **XD** As for Toby becoming overpowered, I'll try my best for him not to become so.

Sorry, everyone, for taking so long! I've had this written for a while, but was waiting until I finished chapter nine to post it, and I have school now, again, as well as a busy summer. Enjoy, and please let me know what you think! Also, **please let me know if you think I should move this to the crossovers section**.

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**Chapter Eight – Of Hoots and Hooch**

"So what are we going to name him?"

Toby pet their new Spotted Eagle-owl slowly as he thought about that. The owl, a great dusty brown bird with black tufts that looked somewhat like horns, stood eighteen inches high, from talon to the top of its head, and was obviously a rather proud bird, though it took a liking to the siblings relatively quickly. It had yellow eyes, which shone like stars in the reflected light of a street lamp as it sat contentedly in the dark, between brother and sister as they sat looking at the stars.

Mr. Weasley had left some hours ago, after much exploration of their house, promising that he or one of the professors of Hogwarts would be there the next day to take Sarah to the school. She would conduct whatever business she needed to complete, and then she would return to her home and her brother by nightfall, where Toby would be watched by the goblins. She trusted the little creatures, and knew very well by now that they weren't all the bumbling idiots she had taken them for, back when she ran the Labyrinth. They were mischievous little twerps, yes, but their incompetency had been mostly an act, aside from a select few. Had they really been trying to kill her in the Goblin City, ten years ago, three companions – however capable – and an army of boulders would not have been enough to stop them. When they weren't being neutral, friendly, or mischievous, they were creatures of nightmares and practically indestructible to boot.

Sarah was distracted from her thoughts by a bump to her head, quickly revealed to be the impact of a small Eastern Screech-owl, with reddish plumage. It trilled at her as he righted himself, clearly annoyed at being ignored. The small bird had formed a bond with the Eagle-owl in the shop, and had refused to be separated from him. So, liking both of them, the siblings purchased the two together. Neither had been named yet, but she knew this should be a priority, or the little Screech-owl would be annoyed further, and the Eagle-owl might be miffed.

Toby pointed at the night sky, and a constellation he just barely picked out from all the others. "What's that one called?"

Sarah leaned closer and looked up along his arm, following his line of sight. "You mean the one that kinda looks like a bird?"

"Yeah."

"That's Aquila, Latin for 'eagle.' In Greek mythology, he was said to be the eagle who carried the thunderbolts of Zeus. The only names I remember of the stars in it are 'Altair,' which is Arabic for 'flying eagle,' 'Alshain,' Arabic for 'the peregrine falcon,' or something like that, and 'Bezek,' Hebrew for 'lightning.' I think its more common name is Eta Aquilae, but what that means, I don't know, though I do know that it's a variation of Aquila."

Toby thought about that for a long moment, and smiled suddenly. "I know! Let's name the little one 'Bezek,' and this one 'Altair.' Hey, you guys like those names?"

Altair hooted regally, and Sarah decided he was a fitting owl for a prince, even if that prince wasn't very regal himself all the time. Bezek trilled his assent, and also seemed to like his moniker. If they had been able, Sarah was sure that the African and American owls would have been smiling. As they weren't able to, Sarah did it for them. "I think they do. Good job, Tobe. Now, to bed with you. We'll leave a window open upstairs for these two so they can hunt, but you've had a busy day, and there are going to be goblins here all day tomorrow."

Toby, though slightly disappointed, obediently got up to go in. "Goodnight, Altair, Bezek. See you tomorrow."

They answered, then took flight, setting out to hunt. Sarah watched them go with a small smile, and decided she could very well get used to this.

**...**

Morning brought the sun and breakfast, as well as a rather giddy Toby. "Look, Sarah!" he cried as she came into the kitchen. He had a big grin on his face as he pointed to the mail on the table. "Altair and Bezek brought the mail for us. Bezek had letters for you and me, and Altair brought the bills and your other letters."

"Did they, now," Sarah laughed, going to the table. "Thank you very much, my fine feathered friends. And who sent you a letter, Toby?"

"Mr. Weasley," he reported happily, holding up the parchment. "He said to expect letters from his youngest children and their friends, 'cause he's been telling them about you and I."

"Interesting. Ah, thank you, Altair." Sarah took the stack of mail that had been nudged toward her, and leafed through it. "Bill, bill, bill . . . Ah, here we go. Bezek's letter from Mr. Weasley." She ripped it open, read it, and gave her brother the short version. "Mr. Weasley tells me that he regrets not being able to come take me to Hogwarts, but an emergency came up at his job – something about an illegal flying carpet and a stubborn owner – and a professor is coming instead. Um . . ." She checked the paper again. "Rolanda Hooch, the flying instructor."

"Flying? Cool! I saw brooms in Diagon Alley, but the supply list said First-years usually aren't allowed to have brooms, though an exception is made on occasion. If that happens, it'll be at school, and a broom can be ordered from there."

Sarah grinned. "I think you'll fit right in, then, since you're taking this so enthusiastically. Let's hope my job isn't too much trouble, or I might break down from stress and be unable to keep an eye on you every day."

Skeeter, just now entering the kitchen, heard this and shook his head. "Skeeter go with, others also. Goblins keep watch, keep guard, and Skeeter help with job. Squint, too."

"Really? You can do that?"

"Goblins can. Goblins must."

"Well, thank you, Skeeter. That means a lot to me. I'm going to go get ready, okay? Be back in a few, in case a 'Rolanda Hooch' comes to the door, or appears anywhere. The letter said she might, though it is normally frowned upon."

That said, she left, with one approving pat to the head of each owl.

**...**

As soon as Sarah was gone, Toby turned to Skeeter. "'_He_' said you have to protect us?" he asked pointedly. With a slightly panicked look at the stairs, Skeeter nodded. "Goblins want to, anyway. But yes, King tell us to protect you at all costs."

"What costs are those?"

Skeeter gave him an equally pointed look. "_All_ costs."

Shuddering at the sobering thought, Toby nodded, and left it at that.

**...**

_Crash!_

"Oh, blimey!"

Sarah whirled to face her bedroom door, startled. That crash had sounded an awful lot like a vase hitting the floor, and that voice had sounded nothing like anyone Sarah had ever heard before. Perhaps it was Madam Hooch, as Mr. Weasley called her?

A quick look down the stairs revealed that it was indeed no one she had ever met before. Kneeling next to the shards of the empty flower vase that had stood on the foyer table was a woman, with short grey hair cut in a way similar to a boy's, and black robes similar to those Sarah had seen in Diagon Alley. As she glanced up, Sarah saw that her eyes were yellow and hawk-like.

The woman grinned sheepishly. "I can fix that."

"Really?" Sarah asked, amused and curious. "How?"

Madam Hooch, for it could be no other, turned to the shards and drew her wand. "_Reparo_," she said, and the pieces of translucent red glass fused together as if it had never been broken.

"Wow," Sarah murmured, awed. Madam Hooch put the vase where it belonged as the young woman made her way downstairs, then turned back to her, sticking out her now-empty hand. "Rolanda Hooch, flight instructor at Hogwarts. Call me Hooch, please, though. I like it better."

"Sarah Williams," she returned, smiling as she shook the older woman's hand firmly. "Please call me Sarah."

"Well, then, Sarah. Are you ready to go?"

"Nearly. I just want to say goodbye to Toby and Skeeter."

"Well, don't let me stop you." Hooch shooed her toward the kitchen, grinning. "It's not as if we're in a big rush. Headmaster Dumbledore isn't expecting us for more than an hour, and while it's a bit of a walk from Hogsmeade to the school, it's not too far."

Sarah smiled back, making a small beckoning motion with her head. "Would you like to meet him, Mad- Er, Hooch? I'm sorry, I'm so used to titles. Formalities, you know."

"Do I," Hooch agreed in good humor. "And I'm sorry about the vase. I'm not usually clumsy, but it seems I Apparated too close to it. Granted, I may be a bit of a klutz at times, but nowhere near the level of a young friend of mine. Still, I'm more graceful in the air than on the ground."

"It's okay," Sarah assured her. "You fixed it, so no problem at all. Even if you hadn't mended it, I wouldn't have minded. I can always buy another vase. Oh, and duck."

Hooch demonstrated great reflexes as she followed the split-second warning, narrowly avoiding a collision by a certain small bundle of feathers. Bezek let out a startled cry as he ran into Sarah's chest instead, her hands outstretched and ready to catch him.

"Silly bird," Sarah chided, grinning. "We're going to have problems with your dive-bombing, aren't we?"

Hooch recovered quickly and looked down at the owl in Sarah's arms. "He's adorable," she complimented, ignoring the fact that he had practically attacked her and was now looking rather grumpy at having his plan foiled. "What's his name?"

"Bezek. Means 'lightning' in Hebrew."

Hooch smirked. "Very fitting, from what I've seen so far. Excellent form, Bez'. Might want to work on the landing, though."

Bezek glared at Hooch for a moment, then struggled a bit before Sarah helped him into an upright position. Then he took flight, possibly to return to Altair, wherever the proud bird was.

Sarah grimaced as he left. "Kamikaze owl, pranking goblins . . . You do know that if you accept me as your assistant librarian, you're accepting these as well, right?"

"We'll get them anyway with your brother coming to school," Hooch reminded her. "Might as well come along to help keep them under control."

"Good point. Come on, it's time you met Toby and Skeeter."

Sarah led her new friend into the kitchen, where the boy and goblin sat waiting. Toby looked up from his bowl of cereal, excitement written all over his face. "Hi!" he greeted his future teacher, scrambling to his feet and bowing slightly in an attempt at princely manners. "Tobias H. J. Williams, at your service."

Hooch smiled at the young prince. "I can see that we're not often going to have problems with your manners. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Williams. I am Madam Rolanda Hooch, and will be your flying instructor at Hogwarts. And this is Mr. Skeeter?" She looked at the goblin, not bothering to hide her interest. Skeeter studied her in return, before nodding once, like he had with Mr. Weasley. "Trustworthy," he said, echoing his words from the day before.

"One can hope," Hooch quipped. "Ready, Sarah?"

"Will be shortly. All right, you two. Remember, no sugar for the goblins. I don't want to see the house a virtual dump when I get back. They have a junkyard back home, we don't need one right here. And please try to not burn the house down while I'm gone, and I'm sure you remember all my other warnings. Also, if a burglar breaks in, you can maim, but don't kill."

"That's no fun," Toby pouted teasingly. "Looks like we'll have to put off strangling the mailman until tomorrow, Skeeter."

The goblin looked at him, his eyes wide in disbelief. "Stran . . . gle . . .?"

"I'm kidding!" the boy laughed. "Oh, but you should have seen your face . . ."

Hooch grinned. "I can see we have much to look forward to in the coming years, Mr. Williams. If Sarah is ready, now, we'll be going."

"Sure," Sarah agreed. "See you tonight, you two."

Skeeter tugged on her sleeve, causing her to turn back to him. "Squint meet you there," he informed her, and she nodded gratefully. "Thank you, Skeeter. See you two later."

And with that, after taking hold of Hooch's left arm, she and the professor Apparated away.

* * *

**Author's Commentary #8**

_On the owls . . ._ I had originally planned on them having just one owl, the Eagle-owl, and began searching for suitable names using my dictionary. When looking for a name that meant something similar to 'eagle,' I discovered Aquila, the constellation. When I looked at the names of the stars in it, I discovered Altair, which I immediately decided was perfect for the proud Eagle-owl, but also Bezek, which I similarly wanted to use. Then I thought, why not have a small owl, a fast one, named Bezek? Thus, I searched for the appropriate owl, and found the Eastern Screech-owl. From that search, there also came the idea of the naming scene, in which they were looking at the stars.

_On Hooch . ._ . She only appears for, at most, maybe ten minutes in the first movie, and you don't see her anywhere else. I don't really remember much about her in the books. So, like other authors, I'm sure, I took the liberty of making her a friendly witch, still a little stern sometimes with the rules, but also not like Tonks, who is a total klutz. I will be following this portrayal when the younger witch eventually appears (don't know when, yet). As for Hooch's first name, I found it on Wikipedia.

_On Bezek . . . _Again, another spur-of-the-moment decision, having him be a yet another mischievous little twerp with his penchant for dive-bombing. I foresee much fun . . .


	10. Chapter 9

Thank you for reviewing, **SassyFrassKerr**, **notwritten**, **Mahina**, **diamond**, **leannapotter**, **38**, **SeaBreeze2Ga**, **Nyllewell**, **poisongirl1713**, and **Vi-Violence**! Yes, I know, it's been months. And this chapter has been waiting that long, too! Oh, well . . . Anyway, no guarantees when the next chapter will be up. I'm going to be really busy with school. Enjoy!

P.S. Picture of Skeeter will soon be provided on my deviantART page, linked to in my profile!

* * *

**Chapter Nine – Of Hogwarts and Headmasters, and Paranoid Aurors**

Sarah stumbled slightly as she and Hooch appeared next to a train station. Looking up, she took note of the name. "Hogsmeade?" she asked, largely recovered from the brief disorientation of Apparition.

"The name of the village just past Hogwarts," Hooch explained. "Come on, the castle's this way."

Sarah looked across the lake toward the cliffs and smiled. "Technically, it's that way, but who's asking?"

Hogwarts rose out of the landscape, made all the more impressive by the large hill it rested on, and the high cliffs that led down to the water. Beyond, she caught a bare glimpse of a dark, foreboding forest, and knew instinctively that she shouldn't ever set foot in it unescorted. Looking back at the castle, she saw that it could rival Jareth's in impressiveness. She couldn't quite recall the size in comparison to this, but knew that this was far grander than the castle beyond the Goblin City. If Jareth and his subjects ever got around to cleaning their place up, then it certainly would impress her, maybe more than this.

_You hardly saw the place, Sarah,_ she reminded herself, but countered that. _I saw the outside (unremarkable in relation to this), and I saw some of the inside: a few dusty corridors, a pigsty of a throne room, and a nightmare Escher room. But . . . maybe that, too, was changed for my benefit?_

But if that was what the rest of the castle was like, she decided, again countering that smidgen of doubt, she now had a basis for comparison.

Smirking to herself, Sarah set off after Hooch. Movement caught her eye, and she turned her head to see red, impassive eyes blinking up at her. "Hello, Squint," she greeted him. "Skeeter said you'd be here."

Squint nodded. He was one of the more quiet goblins, and seemed to have become even more so after living in a bookstore for several years. Often, he could be found in any library, whether Sarah's small one at home, the public one nearby, or, as Bluey revealed, in Jareth's enormous collection. For him to get angry was quite a sight to see, and one Sarah hoped to never have to again. All the goblins could be frightening, each in their own ways – the triplets had recently proved that – but Squint's transformation and aura were absolutely terrifying when his ire was raised. Only once did Sarah actually witness this, when a burglar broke into her home while Toby was off at school, and she was working on one of her stories. Last she heard after that encounter, the poor soul had turned himself in, and law enforcement had checked him into an insane asylum.

"Squint come," he said simply, keeping to his silent nature. "Guard, protect." He gave her a pointed look, knowing how curious she could be at times, though Toby was much worse. "Keep Lady out of trouble."

"Oh, darn, you got me," she teased. "I was going to run into the forest alone, where I'd be killed by Acromantulas and Lethifolds." At the strange look she got, Sarah shrugged, grinning. "I read Toby's copy of _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ yesterday. Reports of an Acromantula colony in Scotland are unconfirmed, but I'd wager a guess that there is one."

Hooch laughed. "I heard the reports were confirmed by a couple of our students two or three years ago. On that note, be careful about the creatures our groundskeeper collects. His dog, Fang, is perfectly tame, but Rubeus Hagrid has a penchant for dangerous animals. I've heard rumors that the first Acromantula to live around here was originally his. He's also always wanted a dragon."

Sarah nodded, shivering slightly at the thought. "I'll keep that in mind," she said, remembering Bluey's stories about various beasts in the Underground. At least some of the dragons there were semi-friendly. Here, they were all deadly predators. Perhaps some were tamable, or even friendly, but that didn't mean she wanted to see one up close, necessarily. "Warn me if he gets one, please."

"Naturally."

It took maybe twenty minutes of leisurely walking to reach a large gatehouse, which Hooch explained had housed the dreaded Dementors nearly two years prior. Dumbledore had very wisely refused to let them near the castle, requiring them to stay there instead, but there had been one incident involving a Quidditch match . . .

Ten minutes of brief exploration later found the three inside the castle, in the entrance hall. To the side, there sat a large set of double doors, at which Sarah gave her guide a questioning look.

"That's the Great Hall," Hooch told her. "It's where we eat all our meals, and have the occasional party, like the Yule Ball last year."

Sarah's shiver at the mention of the dance went unnoticed by the woman, whose attention was elsewhere.

"Of course, that was only for the Triwizard Tournament, but perhaps we'll have another ball sometime. That would be up to Professor Dumbledore, I'm sure. This way, then."

Again, Sarah was lead along, this time through stone corridors lined with moving artwork. She thought she saw a knight galloping around somewhere, but then she lost sight of him. She wasn't disappointed, though, as she knew she would have plenty of time to explore the castle and meet the resident paintings. _Wonder what Hoggle, Ludo, and Didymus would think of this place. I'm sure they would find it much more tidy than the Goblin King's._

The thought of Jareth sobered her, and she sighed whimsically. How she missed him . . .

"Are you all right?"

Sarah gave a start, surprised at the sudden question. "Huh? Oh . . . Yes. Just thinking."

"Anything you want to talk about?"

She smiled at the friendly gesture. "No, thank you."

"All right, then. Well, we're here. Chocolate Frogs."

The gargoyle leapt to the side, permitting access to the circular staircase which opened up behind it. The three climbed to the top, met by a sturdy wooden door, and Hooch knocked. "Enter," came a strong voice, and they did so to find an old man just now standing up. He moved around the desk, offering a warm smile in welcome. "Ah, Madam Hooch. And Sarah Williams, I presume?"

"Yes, sir. Headmaster Dumbledore?"

"Albus, if you wish," the white-bearded wizard confirmed, taking one of Sarah's hands in his. "Thank you very much for coming. And your friend . . .?"

"Squint," the goblin said simply, gazing steadily at Dumbledore first, then at something in the corner.

"He's my bodyguard of sorts," Sarah elaborated. "My goblin friends are convinced I need one."

"And right they are," a new voice growled, and a man stepped out of the corner Squint had been watching. It looked like someone had taken a chisel to his face and had dug out chunks of it. It seemed half his nose was missing, and his entire body was scarred. One leg was replaced by a clawed wooden one, and while one eye was dark and beady, the other was large, round, blue, and most definitely artificial and magical. It whirled around, never fixing on any one thing for more than a moment, but its gaze seemed most often drawn to Squint. He looked like he had seen much in his days, and his twitchy actions betrayed how on edge he was.

"These are dark times we live in," he continued, his gravely voice taking on a warning tone. "Sure hope you know what you're getting into."

Sarah offered a careful smile. "Several things. First, my brother will soon be coming here, and I have no wish to be separated from him. Second, this meeting, I got the impression, was to explain to me just what is going on in the wizarding world, and to ascertain if I'm even qualified for this job. Third, I understand Hogwarts is one of the safest places in this world. That combined with my self-assigned goblin bodyguards should calm most fears. And I'll try to not get in the way."

"And what of the students?" the scarred man countered. "You will most definitely be the target of pranks beyond reason."

Sarah laughed. "I deal with what most call gremlins on a daily basis. No one can out-malicious a goblin, even though they go very easy on me. If I am pranked, the goblins will likely return it twice over, if I don't stop them in time."

"Ah, and how is it you've become so acquainted with the goblins?" Dumbledore's blue eyes were alive with curiosity. "It is rather unheard of for a human to be so friendly with them, even if they are of a different sort."

"That is a tale for another time. May I know the name of your friend, Professor Dumbledore?"

"You may, indeed. This is Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody, an Auror."

"An Auror?"

"Dark wizard catcher," Hootch explained. "Moody's one of the best."

Sarah bowed slightly. "An honor, Auror Moody. Did we interrupt a meeting?"

"No. I'm here to help explain things to you, and to make sure things stay safe."

The woman blinked, looking first at Hooch, then Squint, Dumbledore, and finally back at Moody. "I think it's best you tell me now what I'm getting myself into."

"I agree," Dumbledore said. "Please, take a seat, all of you. You may stay if you wish, Rolanda. Perhaps it might ease Ms. William's nerves to have another friendly face."

"I think I will," the witch answered, taking him up on the offer. "Now, Sarah, what all do you know about the current state of things?"

She allowed herself a smidgen of a smile. "Only the basics about the prejudice against Muggles such as myself and Muggle-borns, as well as Half-bloods by some Purebloods. Arthur Weasley told me there's worse than the Malfoys, and that there's a war, but he said you would explain about that."

"Indeed." Dumbledore laced his fingers together in front of him, his elbows on his desk, and leaned forward, watching her carefully through and over his spectacles. "It began more than fifteen years ago. A dark wizard arose, the Dark Lord Voldemort."

Hooch blanched, and Sarah looked at her curiously. "Are you all right?"

She nodded, smiling sheepishly, and Dumbledore explained. "Not all are as fearless as I in speaking the name, Ms. Williams. You will find that most refer to him as 'You-Know-Who,' or, 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.' See, he was such a terrible wizard, and his followers the Death Eaters as well, that everyone feared him greatly. They tremble even to say those two names that give them some degree of comfort, and react just as Madam Hooch did, to varying degrees, when 'Voldemort' is mentioned."

This time, Hooch did a much better job at steeling herself, and seemed resigned to the fact that the name would be mentioned quite a lot in the following discussion. "My parents were among those killed," she told Sarah, who immediately looked sympathetic. "Perhaps that is part of why I react the way I do. Please continue, Albus."

"Very well. Now, fourteen years ago, Voldemort attacked the home of a family who fought in the war against him, and had twice opposed him. Their names were Lily and James Potter. Voldemort murdered them, but when he tried to kill their young son Harry, it backfired on him, and he was thought dead. See, Lily sacrificed herself to protect her son, and when she died, an old magic came into play, and the boy was protected even from the Killing Curse, _Avada Kedarva_. He is the only one who has ever survived that curse, and bears a unique lightning-shaped scar in testament to his survival.

"As I said, everyone thought that Voldemort died that night, even I, although I had nagging suspicions, and the Death Eaters have been awaiting his return ever since. I had Harry brought to his aunt's and uncle's soon after, where he has, regrettably, had a less-than-pleasant home life. Unfortunately, nothing can be done about that, as the wards set up there effectively protect him against any who may truly wish him harm.

"Now, on to more current matters. It turns out, Voldemort did not die that night, as he found some way to tie his soul to the living world. Four years ago, when Harry was eleven and began coming here, Voldemort returned, possessing a teacher." Dumbledore went on, explaining how Harry, Ronald Weasley, and Hermione Granger had stopped Voldemort from obtaining the Philosopher's – or Sorcerer's, depending on who you asked – Stone. This was followed by a complete explanation of the next three years, no detail left out. When he was done, Dumbledore sighed, his age showing itself in his weariness.

"The world has only a few voices warning of Voldemort's return," he told Sarah with a heavy sigh, "and the Daily Prophet has made it their mission to denounce both Harry and I, painting us as madmen and liars. You may choose to believe either one you wish; I certainly cannot stop you. However, I must warn you to weigh the facts carefully, and to choose your alliances just as well."

Sarah stared at him for several long moments before she nodded, smiling grimly. "I believe you. I would need solid proof that this Voldemort is dead before I abandon such caution. As they say, hope for the best but plan for the worst. And while I would hope that you are mistaken about this dark wizard's return, I know you are not, and it would be lunacy and foolish to not heed you. However, my brother is going to be coming here as a student, and I will not be afraid to the point where I do not accompany him. I made a mistake in my care of him once. I will never do so again."

"Quite understandable," Dumbledore assured her. "Do you still wish to interview for this job?"

Sarah nodded. "Yes, I am. If this benefactor of mine believed it was safe enough, in spite of this war, then I will believe him as well. We had our . . . differences in the past, but I trust him. I'm older now, and more understanding of what happened back then. That, however, is a tale for another time, if ever. Now, what would my responsibilities be as assistant librarian?"

Thankfully, Dumbledore took this as a signal to not pick up on the subject of her benefactor. "Organization, cataloguing, aiding the students when needed, checking books out . . . Before we continue, you should see the place in question." He was back to the cheery twinkle, leading Sarah to wonder what else she was getting herself into.

"All right," she agreed, standing to follow. She and Squint were led by the witch and wizards down the stairs, through some corridors, up a moving staircase (they had to wait a moment for it to switch, however), and down another corridor. By now, Sarah was reminded all too well of a certain Labyrinth, and was extremely grateful that there were no oubliettes or moving walls, and that the staircases were the only thing that would change on her.

When they finally entered the library, Sarah allowed herself to stop a moment in awe at the vast collection. The area surrounding the door was more open, sprinkled with tables on which to do research. On the right of this area, the librarian's desk sat in front of a floor-to-ceiling fence, barring the way to a small section. "Restricted" was written quite clearly over the door, and the young woman wondered just what exactly was written in those books.

To the left, Sarah found dozens of shelves, filled from edge to edge with books of all sorts. There was another research section further back, and smaller desks scattered amongst the shelves for more private research.

She looked at Squint, curious what he thought about all this. His eyes, she saw, were lit up with keen interest, and he seemed mesmerized by the amount of books. At her grin, he glanced at her, then back at the books. "Different books. Big collection."

Sarah laughed. "Bigger than his?"

"No. Bored. Collect much, long years. _Big_ library. But different."

"A lot of his people's books, huh?"

"Yes. But British and American books, too. Goblin stories, also."

Sarah hurried after him as he explored further, leaving her guides behind momentarily. "Goblin stories . . .? Wait, Squint, are you telling me he has my books?"

Suddenly, Squint would not look at her. Instead, deigning not to answer, he turned to go back to the wizards. "Big library," he said. "Get hired, not get lost. Look more later."

"Right," she agreed, sighing. Just one more thing to add to the mystery . . .

**...**

"So, you have my transcript, and we have all that paperwork filled out, thanks to Professor McGonagall." Sarah smiled at the witch she had met on the way back from the library, met with a smile in return. Her first impression of Minerva McGonagall was that she was a strict woman of Scottish heritage. She would not go easy on a student if they turned in late work, even if they were of her own house. She was, however, also a kind person, and rather reminded Sarah of her grandmother. As Deputy Headmistress, she had helped Sarah with all the paperwork she needed done to be hired.

Dumbledore smiled welcomingly, finished checking over the documents. "All is in order. Welcome to Hogwarts, Ms. Williams."

"Thank you, sir."

Hooch leaned back in her seat, placing her feet on the desk and ignoring the amused look Dumbledore sent her way. "So how did you end up getting guardianship of Toby, Sarah?"

Sarah shrugged. "After that mistake I made that I mentioned, I grew a heck of a lot closer to Toby. I hate to say it, but while Irene wasn't the evil stepmother that I thought she was before, she never was quite cut out to be a mother. Toby was much closer to me than his mom, and I was more like one to him. So when I decided to make this move to England permanent – I came here for college – Toby begged Dad and Irene to let him stay with me. I didn't mind in the least, and eventually they agreed." Her smile slipped from her face just then, and she sat bolt upright, startling Squint and the others. "Oh, shoot!"

Hooch's feet hit the floor with a thud as everyone else tensed. "What is it?" she asked, worried.

"My parents don't know! About Toby coming to school here, or anything related! They don't even know about the goblins, which wasn't an important factor before this month, but now . . ."

Everyone relaxed, and Dumbledore chuckled. "I can bring you to talk to your parents, Ms. Williams, if you wish to tell them. A short absence from the country shouldn't bring harm. There is a witch I know in the States who is always prepared for unexpected overseas guests, and her fireplace is always open."

"I hope she lives in New England, because that's where my parents are."

"As coincidence, or perhaps something else, would have it, she does. And then we may safely Apparate to near your home from there, or take New England's magical bus."

Sarah opened her mouth, perhaps to question further, but shut it. "All right," she agreed after a moment. "We're five hours ahead of them, so when should we go?"

Dumbledore looked to the clock. "It is evening now. It should be early afternoon there. Is now acceptable?"

She thought about that, then looked at Squint for approval. He nodded, giving his permission. "Will follow, make unseen." He grinned, and though it wasn't malicious in any way, it was still something of a nightmare. "Goblin magic does much."

"So I've seen. Say, Squint, you've been to my old house before, right?"

He nodded slowly. "Cut time, take instead? Can do that. Approve, wizard?"

Dumbledore nodded, rising to move to Sarah's side. "And shall we return here when we are finished there?"

"Acceptable. Lady?"

Sarah took one of Squint's hands in her own, and accepted the arm offered her by the genteel wizard. "See you all later," she told Hooch, McGonagall, and Moody. Squint stared up at her, and she caught on, forcing herself not to look worried. "You want me to do it?" she hissed quietly so no one else would hear, suddenly wondering if this goblin still had his sanity. "But-"

He cut her off with a rather reassuring smile. "Wish," he said simply, and she nodded, somehow knowing that her bodyguard would find a way to conceal it from the others. Whispering, she cast the spell.

"I wish Professor Dumbledore, Squint, and I were in my parents' backyard right . . . _now_!"

* * *

**Author's Commentary #9**

_On Hogsmeade . . . _I am using a map on hplex-dot-info (Go to Wizarding World, then Places, then Atlas of Hogwarts, and then Map of Hogwarts and Environs by JKR) for reference. I was going to use a different map, but this is canonical, being the authoress' layout, so I decided to use this instead, even if it is just a rough sketch.

_On the library . . ._ I don't remember what the books said about this, really, and there are two different versions in the movies. The first is in _HPSS_, where Harry's looking in the restricted section, and the second is in _HPGF_. Therefore, I am forced to improvise, sticking more to the first glimpse than the second one of very tall close-in shelves and a dark library. A library should be well lit, so that one may read the titles and research without the added incentive of darkness to fall asleep.

_On the goblin magic . . ._ At first, I was going to have them take the floo, as initially planned by them, and Squint was going to join them with his magic. Then, I changed course a little, only partly because I didn't really want to introduce some random American witch who likely wouldn't show up later, and I wanted it to be a shorter trip to her parents' house. I remembered that house elves can transport others with them, and then I thought something like, "Hey, why not let Sarah practice her 'certain powers'?" Thus, the wish. But no, the wizards didn't hear!

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**Edited 10-11-11 **(removed huge block of unnecessary explanation)


	11. Chapter 10

Thank you so much for the reviews, **SeaBreeze2Ga**, **notwritten**, **SassyFrassKerr**, **Diamond**, **darkbangle**, **ladyofthedragons1**, **artseblis**, **starxchanny**, **TammaraG**, **Dragons redemption**, **Melinda7**, **loretta537**, **Morange**, **arynwy**, **kitsunekuruoshii**, and **Kk**!

**darkbangle-** I see what you mean by the info-dump. I have a little difficulty wading through it, and i wrote it! :-P I think I'll shorten that to just a couple lines, real soon. Thank you so much for the suggestion!

**starxchanny-** Not sure, actually, but he does show up again in this chapter. ^_^

Goodness, it's been . . . about a year since I've last touched this. It won't be any time soon that this is updated again, as I'm in college and my muse is as fickle, it seems, as the Roman deities in the _Iliad_ and the _Odyssey_. Yeah . . . I'm taking Western Lit this semester. But! I have begun the eleventh chapter, which is finally getting into the world of Hogwarts. And I must say, it is _so_ fun writing Jareth. XD Don't forget to read the Author's Commentary at the bottom! And a picture of what I imagine Skeeter to look like is linked to in my profile. So, assuring you that in no way am I giving up on this story, here's the next installment! And if you were reading this story last night and this morning and noticed a mix-up in the chapters, that's because I was fixing the section breaks. They had disappeared. Consequently, I lost track of which one I was updating and ended up deleting a chapter or two, leaving a chapter twice in a row - twice. Yeah, that was fun to figure out . . . Not. _

By the way, I'm probably going to be moving this to the Crossovers section really soon. Just a warning. :-P

* * *

**Chapter Ten – Of Parents and Stories and Some Goblin King**

Sarah was completely disoriented when she made the second sudden transition of the day. The weather was very different in America, and going from an office in a castle to a fenced-in green lawn in a New England suburb was more than a little disconcerting. Thankfully, some aspect of the magic they had used prevented the sudden change in pressure from affecting her, and her ears didn't pop. When she finally got her wits about her, supported carefully by Dumbledore, she smiled and nodded her thanks to him. "We should go to the front door. Be glad there's no one around right now, Professor. Your style of dress is a little . . . odd to Muggles, you know."

He chuckled appreciatively. "Yes, it is odd to be wearing robes, from their perspective. And I suppose the pattern is a little strange."

"Only odd?" she teased, before leading him around front. Squint followed, checking carefully for a sign of anyone else around. Just as she and Dumbledore made it to the front porch, a mailman passed by them, walking up the steps and whistling a jaunty tune to himself. He delivered the mail, turned around, and set out for the next house, all without having shown a sign that he'd noticed them at all. Initially, Sarah had to hold in a gasp, but breathed easily again when the mailman just walked away. "Squint, are you doing this?"

Squint nodded, motioning them onward. "Undetected. Parents see. Go talk."

She breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Squint. Come on, Professor. And . . . let me do the talking at first?"

"Of course, my dear. After you, then."

Sarah stepped up to the door, hoping desperately that her parents would be home, and that this trip wasn't wasted. Her father had told her that he usually came home for lunch, and he always stayed until two, before he had to return to work. But what time was it here?

Squint made a noise, and she looked down to see him frowning at her. "Stalling," he muttered, and she grinned sheepishly. "Do you have any idea how my parents are going to react to this? Not to mention, I left Toby in London, and they're not going to believe an ounce about this magic stuff."

He just glared at her, and she shook her head, finally ringing the doorbell. She heard footsteps after a moment, and the door opened to reveal Irene.

"Hey," Sarah greeted awkwardly. "Is Dad home still?"

She blinked. "Sarah! Why didn't you call and tell us you were coming?"

"It was . . . kind of a last minute thing. Is he?"

Her stepmother opened the door wider, granting access to the house. "We just finished lunch. Don't you know what time it is?"

Embarrassed, Sarah blushed. "Not really. The trip was real quick – practically instantaneous – and I haven't had a chance to check the time."

Irene looked confused. "Didn't you think to look for it in the airport? And who's your friend, and where's Toby?"

"Ah, right." Sarah led the headmaster inside, Squint following soon after, and gestured to the elderly man. "This is Professor Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster of the school Toby has just been accepted into, and my new boss. Toby's still in England, with some friends watching him."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Professor."

Dumbledore shook her hand, smiling at the way the woman was eyeing his clothes. "It is an honor to meet the parents of my new assistant librarian."

Irene smiled back, then turned to Sarah. "Well, go on, your father's in the living room. After you say hello, maybe then you can explain why you left my son in England while you came to see me?"

Sarah nodded, waiting to turn out of her stepmother's line of sight before she grimaced. How was she going to explain this?

Robert Williams rose from the love seat by the fireplace as they came in, a bright smile on his lips. "Sarah!"

"Hey, Dad." Sarah wrapped her arms around her father in a warm embrace, glad to be able to see him again. "How's work?"

"Oh, you know, same old, same old." He held his hand out to Dumbledore, and the wizard shook it. "I'm Sarah's father, Robert. And you are . . .?"

"Professor Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts and your daughter's employer."

"Hogwarts?" Irene joined her husband on the couch as they all sat, Squint standing unseen by Sarah, who placed herself in an arm chair facing the love seat, to the right of the fireplace. Dumbledore took the lefthand chair, his eyes on the older of the women. "What's that?"

Sarah fidgeted, twiddling her fingers. "Well, you see . . . I didn't actually come in a plane . . ."

Irene frowned. "Then how did you come? It couldn't have been by ship."

Sarah took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. "Truthfully? Magic."

Robert scoffed, while Irene's expression twisted in what seemed to be bemusement. "Really, Sarah. I know you have an active imagination; you always have. But _magic_?"

She willed herself to remain calm, and sent a glance her employer's way. "Professor Dumbledore is a wizard. Professor, if you would give a demonstration?"

Robert watched warily and in disbelief as Dumbledore took his wand from his left sleeve. "What shall I demonstrate?" the old man asked, a twinkle in his eyes.

"Hmm. Transfiguration, maybe? It's hard to deny that a lamp has been turned into a flower vase."

"Indeed." The wizard flicked his wand, and the coffee table transformed into a chicken. As it clucked and strutted, Sarah turned her eyes to see her father staring in shock, and Irene in wonderment. After a moment, Dumbledore restored the table, and Irene found her voice. "In all my years, I'd never thought I'd actually meet one . . ."

Sarah frowned, unsure of how to take that. "What do you mean?"

Irene flushed. "Well . . . My great grandmother married a member of the prestigious Black family. She herself was a Pureblood, but of a lesser known name. Their first child was a Squib, and they kept her secret and gave her up for adoption, loving her too much to subject her to the rest of her family's ridicule. Each child has been told of their heritage when they were deemed old enough. I never would have thought that Toby would renew the line . . ."

Sarah blinked. "Wait. You knew?"

"About witches and wizards? Yes."

Robert held up his hands in interruption, recovered from his stunned state and wanting answers. "Wait, wait. Irene, why didn't you tell me?"

"We are sworn to secrecy. I'm sorry, Robert. I wanted to, but I wasn't ever sure how. Without magic myself, there was no way I could show you and prove that I wasn't crazy."

He blinked, then turned to Sarah, trying to wrap his mind around something or anything. "And where is Toby?"

"He's in England, being taken care of by some friends of mine. We already went to Diagon Alley – the place where we get supplies – so it is a sure thing that he's going. I just wanted you two to know, as you are his parents, and you wouldn't be able to visit if you didn't know. Plus, you would wonder about the strange changes that have taken place."

"And what about finances?"

"A benefactor has taken it upon himself to pay Toby's way through school, and had recommended me as assistant librarian so that I could remain close."

"A benefactor?" Irene frowned. "Surely not anyone I know."

"No, you don't. Ah, Professor . . . If you could step outside and wait, I'd like to speak to Dad and Irene alone. Please."

Dumbledore nodded in understanding and rose to go. "I will content myself with waiting in the backyard until you are ready."

"Thank you," she said gratefully, sighing. She waited until he was gone, then turned to Squint. "Please make sure he can't hear the conversation we're about to have."

He nodded, and Sarah's father and stepmother gasped as he appeared out of thin air, snapping his fingers twice. "Done," he reported. "No hear. Proceed."

Irene cut her off before Sarah could speak. "Sarah, what – who is this?"

"Oh! Irene, Dad, this is Squint, one of my friends. He's a goblin, and my self-assigned bodyguard."

"A . . . goblin."

"He's a bit different than the Gringotts goblins, which you might have heard of. Anyway, there's something else I need to tell you two about Toby and I."

Robert nodded encouragingly, ready now to accept most anything, now that the idea of magic had been proved to him. "Go on."

"Do you remember how, ten years ago, I used to dress up and act out a book, and how I used to hate babysitting Toby?"

"Like it was yesterday," Robert quipped. "But then, one day you suddenly changed. We went out to eat, and when we came back, you were like a new girl. Mature, responsible. Why, what happened?"

"Well, that night you spoke of, I got really fed up with Toby's crying, and I started telling him the story of _Labyrinth_, that book I was always reading."

Irene frowned. "And?"

"Well, I didn't believe it would really happen, and I didn't really mean it, but . . . I wished him away to the goblins."

"What?"

"You did what, now?"

Sarah looked from Irene to Robert, realizing her stepmother knew a little more about this than her father did. "I wished him away. Then . . . the Goblin King came."

"The . . ." Her parents were dumbstruck. "The what?" Robert asked.

"The Goblin King." Sarah sighed, then proceeded to tell them everything that had gone on. How she had found out what a terrible mistake she had made, how she set out to fix it, how she was so sure of herself . . .

She left nothing she could remember out of the tale, not skimping at all on how idiotic she had been at times, and not neglecting to mention how he had flirted with her. She caught Squint snickering at times, but she glared at him, and he shut up.

It took her parents a couple minutes to let it sink in when she was done. When it did, Irene was again the one to speak. "Do you know what his name is?"

"Yes, but I dare not speak it. Words, I've found, have power, and I don't want him to come because I've summoned him. I want him to come because he wants to. I can tell you what he is, though."

"And what is he?"'

"Fae."

For a long moment, there was total silence. Even unaware of the wizarding world as he was, Robert knew a bit about mythology, and knew that Fae were among the most powerful beings of all time. For one to be connected with his daughter . . .

"And he's your _benefactor_?" Irene sputtered, voicing her husband's thoughts. "A Fae? Why?"

"Well . . . Part of it, I suppose, is that Toby and I both ate fairy food."

Robert frowned. "I don't get it."

"Some call it the Persephone Canon." Though they knew something of Persephone and Hades, Sarah could tell they still didn't understand, and that she had to lay it flat out for them.

"Toby and I are Fae Changelings."

If nothing else had been able to shock them into silence, this alone would have done the trick. Words could not give credit to the mix of emotions they felt, and they were speechless for a full two minutes. At last, Sarah decided it was best to just continue. "The King named Toby his heir, the Prince of the Goblins. I only just found out a few days ago, and my friend Skeeter tells me that Toby has to learn to control his mortal magic before he can learn to harness his Fae magic. When he turns eighteen, supposedly he'll have to make the Underground his home. Really, that's all I know right now. No, that's wrong. I have magic of my own, but it's the power of wishes, and the ability to call on my friends in the Labyrinth through mirrors. That's why I've had to learn to be careful with what I say."

"Does Toby know about all this?"

She nodded. "Everything. He forgave me long ago, and it's why we're so close now. For some reason, it's actually his favorite story; probably because it's how I first encountered the goblins from the Underground."

"And these stories you write?"

"True tales all. Though, I'm not so sure about the flaming trousers incident. I asked Bluey to tell me a funny story about their king, and that was what she told me."

At the mention of that particular story, Robert cracked a grin. "Somehow, I doubt this Bluey would have lied."

"So you're . . . okay with this?"

Husband and wife shared a long look, joining hands and squeezing gently. Then they turned back to Sarah, visibly trying to reassure her. "Honestly, Sarah," Robert told her, "it's going to take a little bit of time for this to really sink in. I accept and understand the wizard part, and I suppose I accept the Fae Changeling bit, but I can't say that I really understand that yet."

Sarah nodded, giving them a warm smile. "Honestly, I thought you two would go into hysterics about all this."

"There's still time yet," Irene joked. "Now, you two make sure you visit, whether you're Underground or Above. And we have some years yet, right?"

Sarah smiled thinly. "I hope. There's a war starting soon in the wizarding world. With our goblin bodyguards, we should be safe, but one never knows."

Robert blinked. "A war?"

And so, Sarah gave them the rundown on the situation with Voldemort. When she was done, Irene was a little paler than when she started. "But you're going to be okay?" she prompted, obviously seeking comfort.

Sarah nodded, then went over and gave each a hug and a kiss on the cheek goodbye. "I have to go now. I'll keep in touch, though, and we'll visit over Christmas. I promise you, we'll be just fine."

Robert and Irene walked Sarah to the backdoor. "So if an owl comes . . ." Robert prompted.

"It will most likely be from Toby or I. Electronics don't work in the wizarding world, so e-mail's out of the question. Just tell the owl to stick around until you send the reply, and you'll be fine in contacting me. I'll ask Professor Dumbledore if it will be possible to get you both a contact in the American wizarding community, and I can ask one of my goblin friends to check in on you every week and pick up or deliver letters."

Irene smiled. "Thank you. And for what it's worth, Sarah . . . thank you for taking such good care of Toby. My greatest heartbreak is that I failed as a mother."

Sarah paused. "At least you tried, Irene. I'll ask Toby what he thinks about his moving back here to the States for the summers. I'm his big sister. We're both Changelings, and will both someday have to live in the Underground. He should spend as much time as he can with his true parents. I never wanted to replace you."

Her demeanor having turned dejected as she confessed her pain, Irene brightened considerably at her stepdaughter's words. "I . . . I would like that," she whispered, hope for redemption in her voice.

Robert's smile matched his wife's. "Thank you so much for everything, Sarah. We'll see you at Christmas?"

Sarah nodded. "If we are able. Goodbye, both of you."

**...**

Robert and Irene watched in dizzied amazement as Sarah, the goblin, and Dumbledore disappeared with a light wisp of smoke, murmured words noticed only by the husband and wife as the young woman wished her party away. After a full minute of staring at the empty space on the grass, though, Robert shook himself out of his daze and led his spouse back inside, closing the door securely behind himself. They had a lot to think about, he and Irene. He had forgiven her for not telling him about this other world on Earth, or "Aboveground" as Sarah had called it. From the very moment she had been told, she had been sworn to secrecy. She hadn't been _able _to tell him.

Robert led his wife back to the living room, and there they stopped in shock.

There was a man in the room.

He seemed ethereal, almost, an otherworldly aura to his being. He sat in the chair Sarah had, running a hand slowly over the armrest where she had laid her hand, an unidentifiable look in his mismatched eyes. They were like Toby's eyes, Robert realized. And Toby's hair, somehow, was a bit similar to this person's ragged locks, though these reminded the couple of an eighties' rocker, a scraggly nest on top and longer hair in the bottom layers reaching just past his shoulders.

The man was dressed very strangely, not even like that outrageous outfit Dumbledore had worn, dark blue robes with twinkling stars and a moon. His legs were clad in what Robert could only refer to as gray "breeches," in no way constricting or a violation of decency. Boots, black leather and sturdy but stylish, went up to just below his knees, their soles flat and toes rounded, no high heels at all. His shirt was light and loose and white, the wide, open collar exposing the bare skin of his chest and a strange golden pendant. A black cape topped this, the collar of it reaching high but not blocking any view of his face. His hands were clad in black leather gloves, and his features were sharp. The strangest feature of all, however, was the eyebrows, swept upwards quite strangely, with the skin below sparkling in a paler color as if he had applied eyeshadow.

A description of him had come not long ago, too soon for the husband and wife to forget, although Sarah had mentioned his pants had been, in fact, something like tights when she had run his Labyrinth. It was clear to them, however, that this was one and the same.

Robert edged Irene behind himself, not willing to take any chances at all, no matter how ill-founded those fears might be. "Goblin King," he whispered hoarsely.

The Fae finally turned his gaze to them, pointed teeth shown in a disquieting smile. "Mr. and Mrs. Williams," he greeted them, his tone not at all hostile. "I apologize for the intrusion, but it seems there are things that must be discussed between the three of us."

Robert watched him for a moment, his gaze flickering to the love seat as the Goblin King gestured to it. After a brief time, he acquiesced, leading Irene to sit back down, though rather stiffly.

Irene was the next one to speak. "Why did you not come when Sarah was here?" she asked, her voice a tad weak. The Goblin King studied her, then sighed.

"I cannot," he confessed, his tone weary and heavy. "I am under a _geas_, specifically a banishment, where she is concerned. I can watch her, due to an unconscious loosening of the unconscious barrier on her part, but I can never be in her presence. It is simply not possible, and I fear consequences toward myself would be grave if I ever attempted to do so."

"And . . . does she know about this?"

The Fae gave her a dry look. "What do you think?"

He had a point, Robert decided. Sarah would have released the _geas_ had she known about it. "And I assume there is no way for anyone to let her know."

The Goblin King gave a bitter little smile. "Only one. The rules dictate that one must be asked the right question. These rules, unfortunately, now apply to the two of you, in regards to her. Call it a _geas_ of your own, if you will. Meanwhile, the goblins and I are frustrated by her otherwise charming stubbornness. She won't even speak my name, or allow it in her presence, silly girl . . . No, silly _woman_." His gaze looked far away, then, and he whispered, something Robert knew probably wasn't meant for them to hear. "No longer too young to keep . . ."

Irene cleared her throat. "May we ask of it, Sire?"

The Goblin King blinked, brought back to the present. "Oh, yes. She wouldn't even write my name down, now would she? It is Jareth, and you may call me that if you'd like, since I aspire to be your future son-in-law."

The look of glee that crossed Irene's face reminded Robert of past failed matchmaking attempts, and seriously hoped his wife would know to stay on the sidelines. "Dear, I don't think he's going to need the help when Sarah finally does lift the banishment." Robert turned a steady gaze on the king that oozed of self-confidence and smugness at the comment. "Will you swear to never harm her, in any way, if you can help it?"

Jareth sat up straight and placed his right fist over his heart in a salute. "I, Jareth, King of the Goblins, do so swear to never let my love Sarah Anne Williams come to harm if it is within my power, be it physical or emotional. I will never raise my hand, magic, nor voice against her, nor will I hold her against her will unless it is for her benefit. If she should ever come into pain, I will do all I can to comfort and help her, and will not be content unless I can see a smile in her eyes. I will treat her and her brother Tobias Hezekiah Jarethkin Williams with the utmost care and respect, making sure the latter is well disciplined and grooming him to be an even more capable ruler. I will never strike him, and I will protect him from harm. This, I so swear." His stiffened stance relaxed, and he flicked a black-clad hand. "The two of you can visit as often as you'd like, just simply let your guards know. If there is anything else you'd like me to swear, just let me know."

Robert nodded in acceptance. "We have guards?"

"Ah, yes, to protect the two of you. You are the parents of my heir and hopeful bride-to-be, after all." Jareth grinned and stood with a flourish. "Tweek! Introduce yourself to the fine humans. And for crying out loud, you little cretin, remove that _thing_ from your head at once, before you mortify your king any further." At the last bit, his voice took on a sneering tone, disgust clear. A thin, spindly goblin blinked into existence in that moment, clad in clunky armor and holding a pink lunchbox. Robert eyed it warily, unsure of why in Underground or Above a goblin would wear a _lunchbox_ on his head.

Jareth gave a silent groan, pinching the bridge of his long nose. "Imbecile. Why I assigned you such an important task, I'll never know."

Tweek grinned happily. "Because I'm smart!"

"Then why were you wearing _that_, hmm?"

The goblin peered down at the object in his hands, utterly adorable and yet not. "Because . . . someone stole my helmet?"

"Why didn't you get _another_ helmet, instead of that horrid thing?"

Tweek positively beamed at his king. "It was the Lady's!"

Jareth faltered, and Robert forced himself not to laugh. "What was that?" the Fae asked, curiosity winning some internal debate.

"It was the Lady's before she became Champion. See? 'Sar-ah Will-i-ams, age . . . twelve.'"

The King blinked in shock. "Good heavens, a goblin who can actually read. Well, aside from Squint, Bluey, and Skeeter. Very well, its attraction has now increased. But it _still_ does not look good on your head."

Now Robert really did laugh, accompanied by a giggle from his wife. "Don't worry about calling it hideous. Pink never really was my daughter's favorite color."

Jareth smirked. "No, I believe that would be blue, two specific shades of it to be exact."

"Peacock blue?" Irene offered meaningfully. If anything, Jareth only became more smug.

"Well, I meant my eyes, but I do have a coat in that color . . ."

"And pants," Tweek said, obviously wanting to be helpful. "And a cloak, and cape, and two shirts, and five other coats, and-"

Jareth clapped a hand over his subject's mouth. "And that's enough of that. Now, aren't you going to introduce yourself?"

The goblin nodded quickly. "Hi!" he cheered as soon as he was freed. "I'm Tweek!"

Bemused, Robert smiled back. "I'm Robert Williams, and this is my wife Irene. It's a pleasure to meet you, Tweek."

Tweek's eyes shone. "A pleasure . . . to meet _me~?_" The last syllable was drawn out in excitement.

Jareth gave him a little shove. "Run along, now, Tweek. And make sure Skeegle and Scrunt don't torment Biddle about that one incident."

"That one incident where he did that one thing?"

"Yes, that one. Disappear, now, bye-bye."

The goblin vanished. Seeing their expressions, Jareth shrugged. "They can make themselves seen or unseen to any they wish, though I am, of course, exempt. I am cursed to always see them . . . Now, then. I have sworn an oath, and we have spoken briefly of your guards and why I cannot visit Sarah, and why you cannot tell her anything of this visit. You've also met one of the banes of your existences from this point on, though they should stay largely out of your way, especially if you – pardon the terminology – wish it of them. Is there anything else?"

"What happens until Sarah finally does release the banishment?"

Jareth focused again on Robert. "She is, admittedly, well protected. Although I am forbidden to be in her presence, my subjects are not. You already met Squint. Otherwise, there are the wizards and witches she is about to live among, and they will keep her quite safe as well. My goblins will keep any prejudiced students from harassing her or Toby. Of that, you need not worry."

Robert nodded again in acknowledgment. In answer, the Goblin King prompted again, "Anything more?"

It was Irene who spoke this time, and her lips quirked into a humorous smile. "A word of advice, milord."

Wariness set into Jareth's eyes. "I'm listening."

"Good. You may want to rephrase your proposal a bit when it comes to it, my hopefully future son-in-law."

The look that replaced the wariness could only be that of relief. "Fear not. My own mother filled me in on my blunders. You and she would get along well, I think. Now, if there is nothing else, there are matters of my kingdom I must attend to." He tilted his head grandly. "Until we meet again, Robert and Irene."

Then, with a flash of glitter that quickly vanished, Jareth the Goblin King was gone, and Robert and Irene were left alone to ponder a suddenly much larger world.

* * *

**Author's Commentary #10**

_On Irene's initial denial of knowing about magic . . ._ The magical world is supposed to be a secret. Naturally, until she knows for sure that Sarah is indeed talking about it, Irene can't reveal anything.

_On the flaming trousers incident . . . _Wrote it all out, actually. XD Check my profile for it! It's titled _The Troublesome Triplets and The Flaming Pants_. Of course. :-P

_On Sarah's offer to Irene . . ._ My resolution to the fact that Toby lives with Sarah, not his parents. Irene is not an evil mother/stepmother. She's just a woman who let her son go when she shouldn't have. Now that's going to be fixed.

_On the _geas_ . . . _This is pronounced "gesh._" _Dictionary definition: "noun ( pl. geasa) (in Irish folklore) an obligation or prohibition magically imposed on a person." I got the idea of this from **PaisleyRose**'s _Beware of Goblin Gifts _or one of her other stories, _Fooled Heart_. I can't remember which.

_On Sarah's middle name . . . _Like Toby's, I just made one up. :-P


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